More Than Friends
by Ami Meitsu
Summary: This is NOT a multi-chapter story; it is a series of linked one-shots. We all know Nick and Niamh were crushing on each other from the moment they met. Upon realizing their feelings for each other, they take it a step further and begin exploring a relationship. Meanwhile, Martha finds that there's more to life than work as she creates her own love story. Nick/Niamh and Martha/OC.
1. Introduction

Greetings,

I am going to start by saying that I am an American viewer of this programme. That being said, I am aware that some things presented may not be completely accurate despite my countless hours of research on the English legal system. Feel free to correct me on anything that may be seriously wrong and bear with me on it. Also, feel free to correct any mistakes I have made in the way the characters talk and some of the spellings used. These stories have been written over the course of a year and I promise that they do improve as the timeline furthers. So, ignore any inconsistencies for now. Also some of the storylines can get a bit strange once or twice but, again, bear with me and my imagination.

That out of the way, let me get to the real introduction. This is a _seriously_ altered universe due to the story arc beginning before series two was even known by me. In this universe that series is not considered canon and the only character from the second series to make the cut into the stories is Caroline Warwick. (The only series two character I liked.) It goes without saying that I ship Nick Slade and Niamh Cranitch. HARD. Anyone could tell that they were totally crushing on each other in the series. I just decided to further this into a lot more.

Now, you (the reader) may be asking why and how the pupils are incorporated into Shoe Lane chambers. As any loyal viewer knows, their fate was undetermined at the end of series one. As stated, I finished the series and went awhile without knowing a second series had been commissioned. Since I like both Nick and Niamh and wanted them together, I decided that chambers accepted both of them.

I always figured that Niamh had headed back into the room to tell them that she had an unfair advantage in the moot and technically cheated. Despite knowing this, Martha speaks on her behalf saying that while she did cheat, it takes a lot to actually admit to it, and that they should look past that before voting. It is determined that while both pupils have different skill sets, they both have great things to add to chambers and both end up acquiring the necessary votes. Thus it is determined that they can stay but will have to end up sharing a room. I know this is really farfetched and highly unlikely to occur in real life, but the programme itself isn't completely realistic either. Besides, it's fiction and it gives me a reason to have everyone back together.

The upside to them both disappearing in canon is that I can fabricate my own details regarding their backgrounds, likes, dislikes and how they were raised. I also took the same liberties with Martha, and, not to brag but my family story for her makes a lot more sense the one presented in canon. But, we'll get to her story later (That's a whole separate arc).

Lastly, do not expect frequent updates. These stories will be updated periodically until I run out of archives and have to write more. This is a collection of one-shots that from a long story arc. As far as fanfic goes, I have found that I have issues creating and sticking to long, chapter stories. I get bursts of inspiration that come out like this. However, explanations of the general plot will be provided when the story calls for them.

In short, these may not be perfect and have their flaws, but for me, it's just for fun. I love to write, and the light-hearted stuff is a nice escape from the book I'm writing…Anyway, enjoy!

**-Ami Meitsu**


	2. Unexpected Developments

_**Unexpected Developments**_

_**A/N: **_This was originally a plot bunny that I expanded. This occurs a few months after Nick and Niamh's acceptance into chambers, in which they've taken to working together and becoming good friends because of it which, of course, changes with this. This is also NOT my best sex scene but they DO get a hell of a lot better (and hotter), I promise. And Nick's mentioned sister is obviously my creation. (He seemed like the big brother type to me.)

_Timeline: Early September 2011_

Though she knew it to be unprofessional, Niamh bit down on the edge of her pen as she contemplated the case file in front of her. She then glanced at the folder next to it, buried among the mountain of papers that had collected on the couch with her in the middle, switching her focus every five minutes. _'There must be something here…Anything! I just need a small piece…' _She thought with a groan as she finally glanced up at the clock. She put her head back down, but immediately looked back up again, double-checking the clock.

"I have to leave," She said suddenly.

"What?" Nick asked, looking up from his own file. He and Niamh had agreed to work together and assist each other with their cases and had spent the past three hours poring over details, bouncing ideas off each other and preparing future defenses.

"It's late," Niamh said, quickly shuffling papers around as she stood. "I should have been gone long ago but…"

"Stay."

"What? No. If I don't get home…"

"You want to walk all the way back to your flat in the rain?"

"I can borrow and umbrella, can't I?"

"Alright. New question. Do you really want to be wandering around at night?" Nick asked, adding, "In the rain?"

Niamh stopped, thinking it over for a minute, finally she said. "Drive me then."

"Niamh, you know I can't afford a car. Just stay. It is no trouble, I am used to accommodating sudden visitors."

Niamh sighed, knowing herself defeated. "Fine," She huffed, kicking her shoes back off.

Nick smiled. It was rare that he ever saw her as anything less than professional and he enjoyed it. To him, it meant that she was becoming more comfortable around him, paving the way for an increased friendship.

"But," She stipulated. "If I am to stay I'll need a shower and…What am I going to wear?"

"Well, there's the shower," Nick said, pointing down the small hallway, oblivious to the issue.

"So you expect me to walk around naked then?"

Suddenly, Nick sat up, as if a light finally went off. "No…Of course not. I'll find you something." At that, he got up and made his way to the bedroom.

Niamh followed, watching as he sieved through a drawer, muttering to himself.

"There _has_ to be more than this," He muttered, pulling out a satin garment as he continued to shuffle the contents of the drawer around. Finally, he gave up, sighed and stood. "You can wear this. It _should_ fit."

Niamh laughed.

"What?"

"You just randomly have a stash of women's clothing?"

"They're my sister's. Whenever she visits I have her leave some stuff for next time. She tends to drop in unexpectedly at times and I like to be prepared," He explained.

She simply nodded and stalked back into the living room, pulling from her purse a smaller bag.

"And what is _that_, may I ask?"

"Just a few necessities. Shampoo, makeup, toothpaste and the like."

"And you carry that around with you?"

"Just in case," Niamh shrugged. "I learned my lesson after having to stay at a friend's house unexpectedly during year eleven in school. It was far too awkward asking to borrow such things." At that, she turned and stepped into the bathroom, leaving him alone.

Nick turned away, intending to go back to the cases, but stopped and glanced at the clock himself. _'I guess supper is in order…but…what to make?' _He quickly glanced about his kitchen and soon began to open cabinets, stopping for a second when he caught the sound of the shower running. He then turned back and finally found something.

'_It is not much, but it will have to do…' _He thought, picking up a jar of marinara sauce.

Niamh sighed contently, running her hands through her hair as the water washed over her, taking her previous stress with it. Though thoughts of the case threatened to surface she pushed them out of mind. Showers were for relaxing, not worrying over previous matters. Those could wait until after, she decided as she picked up her washcloth. She regretted having to step out later. As soon as the water stopped, her raging thoughts came back full force, the most prominent being the trial in three days, which she was _still_ unprepared for.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Nick tapped on the counter, staring at the food on the stove. _'Is it a universal rule that women must take forever when washing up?' _He sighed and began to search out plates and glasses as the sound of a hair dryer caught his attention, followed by an almost enticing humming. He quickly shook the thought from his mind and got to work on the plates, not noticing when Niamh stepped out moments later-until she spoke.

"What do you think?" She asked.

Nick turned his head and dropped the serving spoon he had been holding. She stood before him in a dark-blue nightgown with very thin spaghetti straps. It fell just above her knees and was decorated with lilies in a lighter blue that blended well with the main color and the dark green stems that connected them. It had been the only sleepwear item he could find and he now regretted giving it to her.

Niamh shrugged and gave him a coy smile as she fiddled with the hem of the garment.

In an attempt to ignore her, Nick turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Niamh laughed to herself, satisfied with the result of her teasing and set her previous clothes on the coffee table, then she returned to the kitchen and watched him as he finished the plates and set them and the glasses on the table. She let out a small laugh and said, "Very grown up. Pasta and wine for a casual occasion."

"It's cranberry juice, actually. I don't keep wine around. I can't afford it, and if I have it, my sister will drink it," Nick explained, motioning for her to sit.

Niamh gave him a small nod and took her place at the table. "You did not have to do this, you know."

Nick shrugged. "You're a guest and I intend to treat you, as I do with all my friends."

"Thank you."

Nick didn't answer, and they spent awhile in silence before Niamh broke it.

"Tell me about her," She said.

"Who?"

"Your sister. I'm curious."

"Her name is Patricia and she's currently in school for fashion design. Her hobbies include overly dramatic 'fights' with boyfriends, random visits at one in the morning and one-night stands."

Niamh laughed, easily seeing the joke.

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?"

Niamh shook her head. "None. But, I always wanted a sister."

"You can take mine."

"No thank you. As I got older, I realized the benefits of being an only child," She said, casually picked up her glass to take a sip.

"Isn't it lonely?" Nick asked, looking back to his food.

"Sometimes," Niamh admitted with a shrug. "But, you get used to it."

Nick paused, unsure of how to respond and they spent most of the meal in silence, making occasional small talk about their cases and the difficulties surrounding them. Afterwards, Niamh assisted him in cleaning the kitchen, taking no notice of the questionable looks he was giving her as he watched her move about.

'_Good God…she's gorgeous! Why have I not notice it before? She…Wait! No! Never! Of course she's pretty, but it means nothing. It will __**never**__ mean anything,' _Nick thought with a shake of his head.

"Is something wrong?" Niamh asked, noting his expression.

"What? No. I was just…thinking…" He said, his eyes quickly dipping to her breasts, which were clearly bare.

Niamh raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off and moved back into the lounge to finish her work. Soon afterwards, Nick joined her, setting a glass of water on the table in front of her.

"Thanks," She muttered, not looking up due to her concentration.

He sat across the room and turned to his own case, soon being startled by a loud groan. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"I don't get it! I just don't!" Niamh said, throwing her pen down. "The evidence is there, but…" She trailed off and groaned again.

"Which case?" He asked, moving to sit on the edge of the sofa she was using as her workplace.

"The burglary."

"Can I see?"

"Hm? Sure," Niamh said, shifting to grab the brief behind her, adjusting a fallen strap as he handed him the large, black binder. "Are you sure you're alright? You look…Pale." He looked nervous and flushed and she was beginning to worry about his health.

"I'm fine, really," Nick muttered. "Just…Stressed," He lied. There was no possible way to describe his sudden attraction to her, not to her face. Part of him wondered if he'd been secretly thinking about her for awhile and simply never acted on it, while the other part said it was nothing but a brief, sexual attraction brought on by her sudden change in appearance. Of course, he always thought her attractive, but she was a friend and nothing more.

"Are you sure? I can help with some of your work if…"

"No. I'm helping you, remember?"

Niamh nodded and began to explain the case details to him, carefully presenting her points before explaining her trouble.

'_I guess you do not always know what you're doing…' _He thought with a smirk. More than once, their colleagues in chambers had muttered that Niamh only knew what she did because of her background and acted like she knew everything.

"What?" Niamh asked, finally noticing his smirk.

"Nothing."

"_What_ is it?"

"I told you, it's nothing."

"Then stop looking stupid and _help _me!"

"Very well then. First of all, there is _no_ loophole as you claim."

"What do you mean?"

"Look," Nick started, then he went on to explain his position, making Niamh realize that she had simply been overanalyzing the case. The answer was staring her in the face and she hadn't taken notice because it had been too obvious.

"Thank you," She muttered, quickly making notes.

"No problem. We _are_ working together, remember?"

Niamh simply nodded and continued on with her newfound lead as Nick watched her, growing more nervous as he did so. She seemed perfectly content in being engrossed in her work and looked so…beautiful and natural with her unadorned hair and makeup-free face. He couldn't help but stare, examining every inch of her, as if examining a case for hidden evidence.

She glanced up at him for a moment, slightly uncomfortable with his watching eyes, but ignored it and moved on, simply thinking him to be deep in thought on his own work.

Finally, after a long silence, he could take no more. The ignorance of his own feelings was killing him. He wanted her and he knew it, and finally, he said, "Niamh?"

"Hm?"

"I…I apologize in advance."

"For what?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"For this," At that, he moved closer and pulled her towards him for a sudden kiss.

Startled and unsure how to react, Niamh tried to pull away, but fell into it as it grew more passionate.

Neither understood what was happening or why, but refused to question it, as if, the minute they did, everything would change. So, after he broke off, she simply brought him back to her.

Despite the initial shock, Niamh admitted to herself that she _liked_ it. She had never once thought of him as kissable, but had to admit that he _was_ a good kisser. Damn good, actually. She reached up, tangling her hands in his hair just as he was doing to her.

His senses were reeling in several different directions. He still couldn't place _why_ he started this, but had no will to stop it. He brought her in closer-if that was possible-and gave into her silent demands to deepen the kiss, holding back a moan as their tongues finally met, both of them battling for dominance. Then, something shifted, altered subtly, within him, something that told him that this was _far_ from the end.

Without a second thought or a break in the kiss, he gathered Niamh into his arms and stood, carrying her, bridal-style, to his bedroom.

Niamh knew his intent and, while she knew that she should stop it, end it where it was, no matter how awkward, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. She was fully aware of what she was doing and she liked -no- _wanted _it.

Soon, she felt the soft, cool sheets of the bed beneath her, not getting even a second to stop and think before he was on top of her.

Nick quickly captured her in another series of kisses and finally allowed his hands to roam her body. He stared into her eyes, looking for some sign to stop, knowing that this wasn't right and that if they didn't stop now, they wouldn't until it was over.

Niamh threw her arms around him and pressed him to her, her hands soon moving to wander his chest, eagerly fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

The entire situation brought on the memory of a conversation they had once had and he teasingly whispered, "Are you consenting?"

Smiling, she gasped, "Yes…"

It was done. There was absolutely no turning back now. What was to be would be. All that mattered now was them and their sudden, mutual desire.

As he moved in for another kiss, Niamh finally gave up with the buttons and simply tore his shirt open.

He frowned for a moment, as now he was down a work shirt, but soon shrugged it off, sat up and threw the shirt off before finally working up the will to remove himself from her lips, to the rest of her body, starting with her neck.

She gasped as he gently nipped at her skin, praying that it wouldn't leave a mark. Oh, the stories those in chambers would spread if they saw it. When she had made the mistake of sleeping with Clive, everyone knew it and she _still_ heard the occasional muttering about it. She couldn't have it-not again. Luckily, he stopped before she had to say anything and continued on.

With a sly look that she couldn't see, Nick grasped one of the straps and eased it off her shoulder, revealing a breast. Drawing the nipple into his mouth, he began to suck on it, occasionally stopping to tease her with his tongue, cupping and caressing her other breast through the satin fabric as he did so. They were perfect, neither too big nor to small and fit nicely under his hands.

Her gasps soon escalated to moans as she ran her hands through his hair, wishing he'd stop and kiss her again. She wanted to put her hands on him, feel _him _instead, deciding that when it was her turn, she wasn't holding back.

He quickly drew down the other strap, giving the second breast the same treatment as the first. He continued downward, pulling the nightgown down with him, until he gave up, grabbed the hem and simply pulled it off, leaving her in only her panties, which immediately met the same fate as the nightie.

Niamh gasped as she realized that she was naked, and then frowned when she remembered that he wasn't, so, she immediately pulled him back up and took her hands to his trousers, which came off rather quickly with his help in between kisses.

Suddenly, Nick stopped and recoiled back, simply wanting to stare at her. He ran his eyes over every inch of her body, taking her in. Her silk-like hair, stunning blue eyes, her breasts, her perfect curves, and those incredible legs. "God, you're beautiful," He whispered, drawing her in for a long, deep kiss.

"You're not so bad yourself," She teased, placing her hands on his chest, taking _him_ in. He wasn't the most well-built man she'd seen, but he wasn't really thin either, but somewhere in between with his small, but firm arms and chest. His eyes had some sort of hypnotizing effect to them, and she couldn't help but stare into them.

As he drew her in for another kiss, he discreetly moved his hand down between her legs, teasingly trailing it up her thigh and nearly collapsing with want when he finally found her and felt the slickness of her arousal-and not shortness thereof-come off on his skin. Without a second thought, he nudged first one, and then two fingers into her, smiling at her moan, which was soon shortened by his kiss.

She let him have his way for awhile, then, when she could take no more, she grabbed him and flipped him over. The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. Now it was _her_ turn. After a few, brief, teasing kisses, she moved down his body, doing as he did to her, but taking it a step further as she traced patterns on him with her tongue and hands, smiling when it brought forth a moan from him. She stopped and came back up before she went too far, deciding that she wasn't ready to go down on him, not yet, anyway. Instead, she continued to kiss him as he pressed her body to his, enjoying the feel of it. She could feel him against her, and knew that if they didn't finish soon, they would both go mad.

Though she was more than eager to be taken, she stopped herself, remembering what needed to be done. God forbid if they were to tempt fate.

"You…have something…right?" Niamh gasped in between kisses.

"In…the drawer," Nick replied, pulling her back to him.

Amidst their kissing and caressing, Niamh reached out until she touched the bedside stand and quickly, almost forcefully, pulled open the drawer on it. After some quick searching she finally found what she was looking for.

He reached up to take it from her, but she held it out of reach.

"Let me," She purred, moving down his body again, eagerly pleasuring him in the act of protection. When she came back up, she positioned herself over him, gave him a quick kiss and whispered, "Now?"

"No," Nick said, quickly flipping her back over. "_Now_." At that, he grabbed and suddenly took her, bringing from her a rather loud cry of pleasure, which he silenced with a kiss. "Shush," He ordered. He wasn't particularly interested in disturbing his neighbors and having complaints against him, especially not for _this_.

Being a flat owner herself, Niamh got the hint, and reluctantly suppressed her moans and cries as he grabbed her hands, their fingers intertwining as they moved together, eagerly, desperately. They still had no idea what had come over them to cause this, but they certainly _weren't_ complaining.

'_Dear God! She's incredible!' _He thought, finally allowing himself to do so as he felt her legs wrap around his waist, enhancing his arousal. It beyond obvious now that he was attracted to her but this…this took it to an entirely different level.

At this point, neither wanted an explanation as everything blurred in a steady, heady heat and they reached a climax together.

The minute they collapsed, their identities came rushing back to them, along with several layers of questions.

"Niamh? What…the fuck…did we just _do_?" Nick asked.

"Each other," Niamh replied, suppressing a giggle.

"This isn't funny! Do you have any idea what this means? I…"

As he went on, Niamh shrugged him off and turned away, overcome with exhaustion. She easily drowned him out and slipped into a peaceful sleep.

"Niamh? Niamh?" He said when she didn't answer several of his questions. He then sighed at the sight and maneuvered the blankets to pull them up, figuring it could wait until morning.

When he woke the next morning, it was still dark, as it always was when he woke. For a moment he ignored the time and rolled over, only to be hit with the intoxicating scent of perfume…vanilla to be exact. Immediately his eyes shot open, and though his mind tried to deny it, his eyes couldn't.

'_We didn't!' _He thought as he gently lifted the blanket from Niamh's body, revealing both her and the answer to him. He dropped the blanket and began to shake her. "Niamh," He said.

"No," She said with a slight, annoyed wave.

"_Niamh_!" He snapped, shaking her harder.

"_What_?!" She snapped, her eyes widening when she saw him. "We didn't…" She said.

Nick nodded. "We did."

"Oh, _God_!" Niamh groaned. "I am such a whore!"

"What?"

"First Clive and now _you_," She said, turning away from him. "I guess I won't stop until I go through every man at Shoe Lane Chambers," She muttered, obviously regretting what happened.

Nick drew close and held her. Surprisingly, she didn't protest.

"You're _not_ a whore," He insisted. "But, I have to know. Why _did_ you sleep with Clive?"

"I don't know," Niamh admitted. "First…He played the sympathy card and I was drunk… and it…just happened."

"And why did you sleep with me?"

She paused for a moment, not having thought about it. Finally she said, "I wanted it. I wanted _you_. When you kissed me…Something just came over me and I…I found myself…wanting you."

Nick sighed and Niamh followed. Neither was sure exactly what had happened. Whether it was a simple one night stand or a true night of passion, they weren't sure…

After a long silence Nick spoke again, "What are we to do about chambers? If they know then…"

"They won't know if we don't tell. Just keep quiet and everything will be fine," Niamh said.

'_No it won't,' _He thought. _'Not until we figure this out.' _His thoughts were broken by Niamh's shifting as she started to stand, then, suddenly, she stopped.

"What?" He asked.

"Don't look," She said.

He thought to make some quirky remark, but decided against it and politely turned his head.

"What time is it?" She asked, pulling the blanket around her.

"Six thirty."

"And I don't have to be at chambers until eight…" She muttered. Then she quickly grabbed her nightgown and panties and headed out, stopping to collect her clothes before she went into the bathroom and quickly dressed.

After she had left the room, Nick quickly got up and threw on some clothes, coming out just as she finished, her mussed hair hidden with a ponytail.

"Here," She said, holding out the nightie.

"Keep it. I don't think I want to give it to my sister after…"

"Right," Niamh said. "Thanks."

They stood in an awkward silence for a moment before she turned, collected her papers, binders and pens and shoved them in her briefcase. She double checked her stuff and joined him in the kitchen, taking notice of the rain out the window. "Thank you for letting me stay." She said. "I hate to ask for more but…can I borrow an umbrella?"

"Oh, sure," He said. He produced one from the coat closet and handed it to her.

"I'll give it back at chambers," She promised before heading out the door and leaving him alone. Once outside, she stood for a minute, staring at the half lit street while inside Nick did the same, only at the window, both wondering the same thing: "What the fuck just happened?"


	3. First Date

_**First Date **_

_**A/N: **_The aftermath that occurs a week after the first short, where Nick and Niamh go on an actual date instead of just randomly screwing around. Also, it goes without saying that Niamh's mentioned mother and best friend are of my own creation. More will come out about them as the shorts go on. And, Niamh's outfit for their date was the outfit that her actress (my favourite actress!), Natalie Dormer wore to the Cleopatra Press Night in May 2011.

_Timeline: Mid-September 2011_

In his and Niamh's room, Nick sat, going over a brief alone, as Niamh was at court. He tried his hardest to concentrate, but, his mind soon began to wander-a less-than-rare occurrence that week.

'_What did we __**do**__?' _He asked himself, though, he knew the answer. Much to his chagrin, he remembered it all-the initial kiss, her consent, the look of lust in her eyes and their obvious, shared passion. _'It couldn't have been a simple one-night stand…if it was, I wouldn't be thinking about it so hard…And we wouldn't be avoiding it…' _He sat back, thinking it over for what seemed liked the thousandth time in that week. Finally, he stopped and sat up. _'We cannot avoid it for much longer…Everyone is beginning to get suspicious…I have to do something…I must speak with her!' _

Meanwhile, Niamh, who had just finished her trial, sat on a bench in the courtroom with her head against the wall, thinking of the same thing. _'I'm sick of dancing around it…but…I have no idea what I'm supposed to do! Why can't I just brush it off? It's not complicated, not like with Clive…I only urged him on so he couldn't do anything against me…But Nick is…Ugh…' _She sighed, deciding that they needed to speak immediately. She then forced herself up and gathered her things before heading out.

She returned to chambers shortly before lunch, pushing through those in her way at the same moment Nick exited their room.

"Niamh!" He called.

Niamh looked up just as he grabbed her arm.

"I have to…"

"Speak with you," They finished together.

Niamh blushed slightly as they both stepped back, taking a second to recover from the awkward silence. Then, Nick grabbed her arm again.

"Come with me," He said, quickly ushering her outside.

They stood, leaning on the rail in an awkward silence for a few minutes before they both turned to speak.

"You first," Nick insisted.

"I've…been thinking about…that night and…" Niamh stopped, unsure of how to continue.

"To be honest…I've been thinking…a little too much."

"Why is this so complicated? Why can it not be as simple as saying we had sex and moving on?" Niamh asked.

Nick shrugged. "I…I don't know…Maybe because…It's _not _simple. If it was nothing more than a one-night stand we wouldn't be thinking about it so much."

"Does that mean…?"

"I don't know…Maybe?"

They stopped, standing in silence for another minute before Nick suddenly spoke.

"Let's go on a date."

"What?" Niamh asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We could go out for a while. See if…Maybe it could work?"

"See if what could work?"

"You…Me…_Us_. And, if nothing happens…If it's uncomfortable or just not working, then we think nothing of that night. We'll simply acknowledge it as a one-night stand and be done."

"So, you want to go on a date with me and try out a relationship?" Niamh asked, making sure she was hearing him correctly.

"I…I guess."

"And if either of us doesn't think it's working, we'll leave it alone?"

"Yes."

"Alright, then. I'm in. When's our first date?"

"I was thinking tonight. If you're not too busy that is," Nick said, fumbling through his words a bit.

"That depends, what did you have in mind?"

"Oh…Um…" Nick stuttered. _'Why didn't I think this through? It has to be something nice…but not too fancy…Not that I can afford much anyway…'_ Finally, he said, "We could go see a film…Or how about dinner?"

"How about _both_?" Niamh suggested. "I should be free by seven."

"Um…Alright."

"I'll be by your flat before then." With that, Niamh turned and headed back inside, leaving a slightly confused Nick behind.

'_Did she just invite herself over?' _He thought as he headed back in, quickly realizing that he had quite a bit of preparing to do. He spent the rest of the day concentrating on briefs and watching as Niamh did the same until she decided that she was going to leave.

"I guess I will see you later," She said in a slightly nervous tone.

"Yeah…later…" Nick muttered.

After a second of hesitation Niamh turned and left, nearly running over Martha in her path.

"Sorry," She muttered.

"And where are you going so early?" Martha asked, glancing at her watch.

"I have a date tonight," Niamh explained as she quickly moved on.

"Who with?"

"Oh…Just someone I met at the pub."

Martha gave her one last glance and moved on, though she was a bit curious, she knew it was best to leave it be. She moved on, stopping again when Nick crossed her path.

"Is there a reason you're leaving early too?"

"What?" Nick asked.

"I just passed Niamh, who was in as much of a hurry as you are. She said she had a date."

"I don't know anything about that. I…I promised my sister I'd take her out," He lied.

"Alright. Have fun, then," Martha said, quickly moving on. Her intuition told her that something was clearly afoot, but she ignored it for the moment, deciding to wait until she looked into it more.

Nick stepped outside with a sigh of relief and turned to go home, but, soon found himself at a florist instead.

"Can I help you sir?" The saleswoman asked after watching him walk about lost for ten minutes.

"Yes…uh…Those roses, how much for a dozen?"

"Thirty-five pounds."

Nick cringed. That much for a few flowers? "How about one?" He asked at the same moment Niamh stepped into her flat. She quickly kicked her shoes off and sat on the sofa with an exhausted sigh. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with a hot cup of tea, instead, she forced herself up and went into her room to select an outfit for her date.

'_If we're going to the cinema it has to be something casual…I'm not sure where we'll have dinner, but knowing Nick it will not be anywhere too fancy.' _ She thought as she rummaged through her wardrobe, quickly turning her neat, clean bedroom into a mess. _'Why is this so difficult? It's just __**Nick**__! We've gone out plenty of times…Though, those were all chambers outings.' _Niamh sighed and threw aside the dress she had in hand before going through her wardrobe again, putting it away as she did so and soon smiling when she found something she deemed suitable.

After a quick glance at the time, she threw the outfit on her bed and rushed into the bathroom for a quick shower. Though she would have preferred a bath, she knew there was little time and much to do. This wasn't an ordinary date-she knew. Not only were they colleagues, but friends, friends who had slept together before evening thinking of a date. She still couldn't believe they had done so, but was starting to accept it, as was Nick, who was desperately trying to put his own outfit together.

'_Why don't I have anything decent?' _He asked himself as he rifled through his wardrobe, only to give up and settle on a simple, casual ensemble of jeans and one of his good shirts-minus the tie and jacket. He then stood in the mirror, studying his appearance for a good five minutes before finally deciding to leave the first two buttons of the shirt open, his eyes happening upon a similar garment hanging over his chair in the background. It was the shirt Niamh had ripped during their night together. He had meant to give it to his sister for mending, but never got around to it due to his work. He then briefly wondered if Niamh had actually kept the nightgown she had been wearing.

Though she had considering throwing it out, Niamh _had_ kept the garment, thinking it cute, even as she threw it aside to dress. It was mixed in with a pile of clothes that still sat on the bed. After giving them a quick glance, Niamh shoved them to the floor, intending to pick them up later, and quickly dressed. She then headed back into the bathroom to do her makeup and returned to transfer her belongings from one purse to another. Finally, after one last glance in the mirror, she headed out.

Still nervous about the night, Nick sat watching television in an attempt to deter his thoughts. It worked for awhile, until a knock came at the door. He then suddenly sat up, contemplating whether he would truly answer for a second before he took in a breath and made himself get up. He quickly grabbed a flower from the coffee table, and, holding it behind his back, he opened the door, nearly tripping backwards at the sight of her. It was rare for him to _not_ see Niamh dressed up, and he _liked_ it, thinking that she looked…_cute_. Her outfit was rather simple, and consisted of a pair of dark jeans, a white jacket with a low, v-cut that revealed a black, tank-top and a pair of black, peep-toe heels that showed off her scarlet toenails. The outfit was completed with a simple, gold bracelet, a small, diamond ring and a red, over-the-shoulder handbag. Her makeup was light, with just a bit of eye shadow and mascara to bring out her eyes and a light-red lipstick. Her hair was left down and curled, her fringe cleverly pushed behind her ears to show off diamond earrings that matched her ring.

"What do you think?" She asked. "Too casual?"

"No," Nick said, nervously shaking his head. "You look…nice. Beautiful actually…Uh…Here," He stuttered, quickly presenting her with a single, red rose.

Niamh gave a soft laugh and carefully took it, saying, "A single rose? Isn't that a bit cliché?"

"I…I thought it suited you. I wanted to get something more but…"

"But, it's cliché for a reason" She said as she stepped passed him into the flat. "You have scissors, right?"

"On the…counter…why?" Nick asked, slowly turning and watching as she stepped into the kitchen, picked up the scissors, and, without a second though, snipped over half of the rose's stem. It almost hurt him, until he saw her place it in her hair.

"How does it look?"

"Fine…It suits you and the outfit."

"I thought so. Come on," She said, linking her arm with his. "Are we going to eat or are we going to the cinema first?"

"If it's okay with you, I'd prefer to eat first."

"Works for me," Niamh said, gently leaning her head on his arm, feeling more comfortable with him than any of her past dates due to their closeness.

'_Vanilla…'_ He thought, tensing a bit as he caught her scent, the same scent she had when he woke and found her in his bed. "Vanilla…" He said aloud.

"What?"

"Nothing…Just…Your perfume."

"I'm not wearing perfume. It's conditioner," Niamh clarified.

"Oh…"

Niamh couldn't help but give a soft chuckle as she resumed her position as he led her downstairs and up the street.

He hadn't given _any_ thought to where they'd eat, but did not want to see unprepared and nervous, so, he made an impulse decision and led her to his favorite, local pub. It was a small, private place with a friendly atmosphere that he fully enjoyed.

Once they entered, Nick quickly sought out a table and ordered Niamh to sit. "Wait here," He said. "I'll get the food."

"I haven't even looked at the menu!" Niamh argued.

"You don't have to. I know what I'm doing." At that, he walked off and headed to the counter.

Niamh sighed and pulled a compact from her purse to check her hair and makeup. When she closed it, she found a man in front of her. "Yes?" She asked.

"I don't think it right for a pretty young girl to be alone in a pub," He said with a rather creepy smile.

"I'm on a date," Niamh replied. "And I would appreciate it if you left me alone."

"You don't mean that do you?"

The glare Niamh gave in return thoroughly scared him and he quickly backed off, as if he knew that continuing would get him hurt. The only thing he didn't know was that it would've been done legally rather than physically. Minutes later, Nick returned with a rather large sandwich, a basket of chips and two glasses of beer.

"_What _is this?" Niamh laughed.

"A chicken club," Nick replied. "I thought we could split it."

Niamh gave him a curious, unsure look and glanced at the meal again.

"You act as if you've never gone to a pub before."

"I go when I have time, usually with my best friend, but we've never eaten anything like this."

"You'll like it, trust me."

Niamh gave him a quick glance and carefully reached for her chosen half of the sandwich. After a brief moment of contemplation, she finally bit into it.

Nick smiled as her eyes widened in surprise. "Told you." He said.

Niamh rolled her eyes and picked up her glass. After a brief silence, she spoke again, saying, "So, tell me about your family."

"My family?"

"Yes. I'm curious as to where you come from."

"Well, my dad writes for a newspaper and my mum works in a clothing shop. She's a tailor."

"Is that where your sister gets it from?"

"What?" Nick asked, stopping in the middle of reaching for his own glass.

"You said she was in school for fashion, remember?"

"Oh…right. What about you? I know your father's a judge, but, what about your mum?"

"Catering."

"Catering?"

Niamh nodded. "She works as a chef for a catering service. It's where I get my cooking skill from."

"You cook?"

"Frequently. I'll have to have you over for a meal sometime. My best friend says I make the best traditional breakfast she's ever had."

"Are you sure she's not just flattering you?"

Niamh narrowed her eyes and threw a chip at him. "_No_!" She said. "Besides, you can't do any better!"

"I'm a decent cook."

"What can you make then, besides pasta and frozen waffles?"

"Cereal."

There was a short pause before they both laughed. The meal continued with both of them chatting happily about whatever came to mind, which turned out to be mostly family secrets in their attempts to know each other more. Afterwards, Nick offered to pay the bill and they made their way to a nearby cinema, arms linked as before with Niamh's head resting on Nick's arm.

'_I still can't believe I'm on a date with Niamh of all people! I never thought of her as more than a colleague…but now…' _He thought, soon being dragged from his mind by Niamh's voice.

"What do you want to see?" She asked.

"Huh?"

"What film are we going to see?"

"Oh…Um…" Nick stuttered, not having thought about it. After a quick glance at the promotional posters he motioned to one that he remembered his sister talking about. "What about that one?"

"Do you honestly want to see a chick flick?"

"Don't you?"

Niamh shook her head. "They're guilty pleasures that I prefer to watch at home. How about…that one?" She pointed to another poster.

"How about…not…" Nick replied rather nervously.

"Not a horror fan, Nick?" Niamh asked with a smile.

"Not really…"

"Alright then…How about this one?"

"I heard that was rubbish."

"Exactly."

"What?"

"Just…Come on," Niamh grabbed his arm and dragged him with her, paying for their tickets since he paid for dinner. Though the film was _meant_ to be comedy, it wasn't well done and they spent the whole time poking fun at it, in whispered tones of course, as not to disturb those around them. For Nick, it was quickly becoming the best date he'd ever been on. Being with Niamh was…comfortable. He wasn't under any pressure to make an impression because they already knew each other and he found her to be great company.

Though she was a bit unsure at first, Niamh had easily warmed to the idea of the date as the night went on. She was beginning to see him as more than a colleague-if he would allow it, of course.

They were laughing as they left the cinema, repeating some of their jokes and critiquing the film.

"They were all so…flat! None of the cast could act," Niamh said.

"And none of the lines felt real. It seemed too forced," Nick said as they walked on, a silence falling over them for a bit. "What gave you the idea to do that?"

"Do what?"

"See a bad film?"

"About once a month or so, my best friend Felicia and I pick out the film with the worst reviews and see it, simply to make fun of it. It's been a tradition since we were fifteen. It's dropped off a bit, with my being called to the Barr and her studying photography, but it's still a great outing. It's great fun, is it not?"

Nick nodded, smiling at the fact that she was sharing one of her own traditions with him. For some reason, it made him…happy.

"What about you? Any strange traditions you're willing to share?" She asked.

"Well…I don't have much with my friends, but my sister and I have some strange ones. When I was ten, she made me this hat, and every Christmas she sews something new onto it. Last year it was a pink fuzzy ball. Then, she makes me wear it in to take a photo...Which she puts on a blog. It has all sorts or obnoxious decorations, buttons, candy canes…that sort of thing."

Though she tried to keep a straight face Niamh couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry…"

"No need to apologize. It _is_ quite funny. I'll have to show you the hat sometime. It's at her flat so that I cannot get rid of it."

Niamh smiled at that and they walked on, chatting along the way and eventually stopping in front of his block of flats. He stopped outside the entrance and said, "Wait."

"Hm?" Niamh looked up at him.

"I know this is only out first date…and…well…Would you think I was going too fast if I asked to kiss you?"

After a brief moment of shock, Niamh replied, rather shyly, "Would you think _I_ was going too fast if I said no?"

They both glanced at each other nervously for a moment before their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. Niamh wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer as they allowed it to deepen a bit.

When they finally broke apart, they smiled at each other, and Niamh said, "I should leave. I must get home before it's too late."

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you back to your flat?"

"I'm sure."

"In that case…" He quickly pulled out his wallet. "Take a cab on me."

"You don't have to do that…I…"

"Half then. I insist."

"Alright," She said, hesitantly taking the money he offered. "Thank you. I had a wonderful time tonight." At that, she turned up the street, only to be stopped by Nick's voice a moment later.

"Can I take you out again?" He asked.

"I'd like that," Niamh replied. "But only if _you_ pick the outing."

"So, we have a date then?"

"Yes…I believe we do." At that, she turned away again, quickly hailing a cab while Nick watched. _'God, she's beautiful…Cute too…Is it possible that we could actually make something of this?' _He thought, turning into the building only when she was gone.


	4. Wining and Dining

_**Wining and Dining **_

_**A/N: **_Obviously, these jump around a bit in terms of timeline but this is simply because they were written. (I have trouble with multi-chapter fanfics). As of this tale, Martha is the only one in chambers who knows that Nick and Niamh are dating because she managed to coax it out of Niamh one day (A still unwritten scene). I always thought those two would make _great_ friends. And, fair warning, this is where the love scenes start to pick up in quality. And, for the record I did not design Niamh's dress, I found it online.

_Timeline: Mid-October 2011_

Nick considered simply walking away, embarrassed to be standing in front of his sister's door, waiting for her to answer simply so he could borrow money. But, he reminded himself that it was for Niamh and knocked again, relieved when she finally answered.

"Nick! What are you doing here?" Patricia asked with a huge smile on her face.

"I need to borrow some money," He replied as he stepped into her flat, which was covered with drawings, fabric and various, rather obnoxious, flowers and pieces of artwork.

"Um…Sure…How much?"

"Twenty. I promise to pay you back."

"And what are you planning to do with this?" Patricia teased.

"Just…Something. Alright?"

"What _kind_ of something?" She asked, taking a twenty pound note from her purse

"Just give me the money."

"Not until you tell me what it's for," She said, holding it out of his reach as she backed up.

"_Patricia_," Nick warned.

"_Nicholas_," Patricia said back with a giggle.

Nick reached for the note, but she quickly jumped out of the way. He tried several more times, but gave up and confessed. "I want to take a girl out, okay? I've been working to get some extra money to take her to a nice restaurant and am twenty pounds short of my goal."

"Who is she?"

"None of your business," Nick said, reaching for the note again.

"Tell me who she is and it's yours," Patricia promised as she jumped out of reach again.

"I'm not in the mood for your games, Patricia."

"You will be if you want this money."

Nick sighed. "Her name is Niamh."

"Niamh who?"

"Niamh Cranitch. We're in chambers together."

"Ooh…Dating a colleague? Isn't that against the rules or something?"

"Not if we're the same age and in the same position, now give me that!" Nick said.

Patricia contemplated her choices and held the note out to him, slightly startled when he quickly snatched it from her.

"I don't remember you going through so much trouble for your other girlfriends…What makes her so special?"

"I don't know…She's just…different. Alright? Thanks for the loan. I'll pay you back soon." At that, he simply left, not bothering to answer her question. As he walked up the street, he dialed the number for the restaurant he had selected and made a reservation for the next night, relieved when they had an opening since Friday nights were their busiest. He walked into his own flat with a smile on his face and got to work on a defense for a trial set for the next morning at ten. But, before he headed to the courthouse he stopped by chambers, hoping to catch Niamh before she left for her own trial. Luckily, she was right where he wanted her-reading over her brief in their office. He quickly shut the door, not noticing the tiny crack between it and the frame, walked to her desk and set his hands on it.

"What?" Niamh asked, giving him a brief glance.

"We're going out tonight."

"What?" Niamh repeated, this time with confusion.

"I'm taking you out to a nice restaurant. Somewhere with candles and wine and overpriced food."

Niamh gave a small laugh and asked, "Really?"

Nick nodded. "It's why I've been doing those odd jobs."

"For me?"

"For _us_."

Niamh immediately jumped up and pulled him into a hug. "What time?" She whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Our reservation is for eight."

"I can be at your flat at…"

"No," Nick interrupted. "I want to do this right. I will pick _you_ up at seven thirty."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"In that case…" Niamh stepped back toward her desk and quickly wrote something on a piece of scrap paper. She then returned back to her previous spot and held it up for him to take. "Here's my address."

Nick smiled and put the paper in his pocket.

They stood in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say or do until Nick drew her in for a kiss. And, though she knew it was wrong to show such affection in chambers, Niamh couldn't help but get roped into it. She leaned against the edge of her desk as it grew deeper and longer, drawing him back when he broke off.

"You know, if you keep doing that it won't be a secret for much longer," Martha said, leaning against the door frame.

Nick and Niamh immediately broke apart, deep blushes prominent in both their cheeks.

"Martha…" Niamh said. "D…Did you need something?"

Martha tilted her head towards the clock, which Niamh immediately turned to.

"Oh, right. Let me get my things."

"Where are you going?" Nick asked after Niamh had gathered her belongings.

"Our trials are at the same courthouse. Martha's giving me a ride," Niamh explained as she headed out the door.

"So, what was that about?" Martha asked once they stepped into the car park.

"He's taking me out. Somewhere with 'candles and wine and overpriced food,' he said."

"Ah, the old wine and dine thing. Sounds kind of cliché, don't you think?" Martha asked as she threw her purse behind the driver's seat before getting into her car.

Niamh followed with a similar motion and entered on the opposite side. "Yes, but it's cliché for a reason," She said, adjusting her seatbelt as she spoke.

Martha smiled at her and took off. It was silent for awhile before she spoke again, asking, "So, what are you working on today?"

"It's the last day of my burglary trial…" Niamh replied, then she paused and asked, "Why won't Billy give me anything more exciting, like murder?"

"Probably because you're still in training. Don't worry about it, you'll work your way up to high profile cases."

"Nick's doing a traffic case today."

"I know. I helped him with it. I hope it goes well."

Niamh nodded. "Clive said the head of chambers was going to watch him."

"I wouldn't be surprised. He probably wants to see if Nick really is worth keeping around," Martha said, glaring at a red light as she stopped the car.

"I think he is. And not just for personal reasons. He's different…Doesn't quite fit in…Kind of like you."

"Thanks."

"I meant it in a good way. I swear."

"I know. So, how _is_ it going with Nick?" Martha asked.

"Fine," Niamh replied flatly.

"Just, 'fine?'"

Niamh nodded, unsure of what else to say. She had no other word to describe it, and wasn't sure if she was ready to reveal her possible, budding feelings for him. Finally, she said, "We had our first stay-in date the other night."

"Stay-in date?"

"That's what he called it. He was tired from working all day, so I offered to come over instead of going out. He ordered takeout, we watched a film, talked for a bit…That sort of thing. I know it sounds lame, but I thought it was nice…sweet actually."

"And what time did you get home that night?" Martha teased as she scanned the courthouse's car park for a space.

Niamh gave a small laugh before replying. "Eleven. It would have been sooner but we fell asleep for an hour after the film."

Martha simply nodded as she finally stopped the car. "Will you need a ride back?" She asked as she stepped out.

"I don't think so. I'm not going back to chambers. I want to relax a little before my date."

"In other words, you're going to spend three hours going through your entire wardrobe."

"Pretty much."

They laughed and turned to head inside, saying nothing as they walked. Court was a place for work, not mindless conversation. Once inside, they went their separate ways, while, down the road, Nick stepped into another courthouse and quickly sought out his client. His was a small, drunk driving case to be heard in the magistrates' court that he hoped wouldn't take long. He, like Niamh, had planned to do some preparing for their date-including a bit of shopping. Unfortunately, it took longer than he thought, but he was out by eleven thirty and made a quick decision to stop for lunch before heading out on his errands.

Half an hour after he took off, a verdict was reached in Niamh's case and she set off on her own errands, her first stop being a very familiar place-the home of her best friend, Felicia. She knew Felicia wouldn't be home, as, she was on some sort of photography expedition in Scotland, not that it mattered, as Niamh wasn't looking for her but her mother, whom she knew was off on Fridays.

"Niamh!" A woman said as she answered the door. "What a nice surprise! I thought we wouldn't be seeing you until Felicia returned," She continued as she drew Niamh into a warm embrace.

"Teresa, I need a favour," Niamh said.

"What kind of favour?" Teresa asked, quickly ushering her inside.

"Can you do my nails? I have a date tonight."

"Of course, Sweetheart! What colour?"

"I'm thinking of wearing either violet or black so…whatever you think will match."

"How about sparkling silver? It's an all-purpose colour."

"Sure. And, can you do my toenails as well? Just in case I wear open-toed shoes?"

"No problem. Take a seat on the sofa; I'll be back with my stuff."

Niamh sat and removed her stockings, looking around as she did so and smiling at many of the pictures. Her favorite still sat in its place on top of the television centre-A picture of her and Felicia from back in preschool. They were both dressed as princesses, Felicia in blue and Niamh in violet.

Niamh smiled at it. Though they both looked a bit dorky, she loved it. It was nostalgic and showed how long they'd been together.

"What are you smiling about?" Teresa said, approaching her with a small, black case.

"Nothing. How have you been? How's Pippa?"

"I'm fine and Pippa's…well…a teenager. She misses her sister though-I know that much. What about you? How's life at the Barr?"

"Tiring. I just finished a trial and I'm sure I'll be getting a brief later," Niamh said, then, on cue her phone rang. She answered with her free hand, as, Teresa was filing her nails and said, "Hello?" She then sat back and listened, not saying anything for awhile, then she said, "That's fine. Can you drop it off in about two hours? Alright. Thank you."

"Work?"

Niamh nodded. "I have another brief. Apparently, I'm working with Martha on a murder case…I think she pulled a few strings because I mentioned not getting interesting work."

"Martha?"

"Martha Costello. She's a colleague and a QC."

Teresa nodded and motioned for Niamh to hold out her other hand.

"I don't get a lot of work, being a pupil, but I do what I can. I've had to work on the side to pay my rent a few times."

"Poor baby," Teresa teased.

"Not really. I have food, clothes and a place to live, which is enough for me."

Teresa smiled and began to apply a base coat while, at the same time, Nick stepped into a small shop. He had called his sister the previous night after leaving her flat to get a bit of advice on minor things-one of which being his attire. Her only suggestion had been to buy a new tie-something different from his usual collection. After a brief search, he settled on two-one black and the other violet. He picked up the violet one because it was Niamh's favourite colour, and he had a hunch that it would also be the color of her dress. If not, he figured that the black would match with anything and he could simply change them out. Afterwards he headed to a nearby florist and immediately sought out one of the saleswomen, as they knew what they were doing.

"Excuse me?" He said, stepping up to one young woman who was watering flowers.

"Yes?" She asked.

"I was wondering if…Well I…" He sighed. "I have no idea what I'm doing." He confessed.

The woman laughed. "Most men don't," She said humourously. "Do you have a general idea of what you're looking for?"

"Well…I'm going on a date and…"

"You want to bring her flowers," She finished for him.

"Yes. I know it's cliché and a little…stupid…but…"

"Not at all. I think it's sweet and love when my boyfriend gives me flowers. Does she have a favourite?"

"Not that I know of…But, her favourite colour is violet…And, I don't want much, just a little something."

"Violet, huh? I have an idea." The woman quickly grabbed Nick's hand and dragged him off. By the time he left, he had something he thought to be perfect, and it cost far less than he initially planned to spend. _'More money for dinner I guess…' _He thought as he headed home.

"I _love _them!" Niamh squealed as she looked at her nails.

"I knew you would. Have fun on your date," Teresa said, gathering her things while Niamh slipped her stockings and shoes back on.

"I will," Niamh said. "Thanks again."

"Anytime, Honey. Tell your mother I said 'Hello.'"

"I will. I have to give her a ring soon." At that, Niamh left, knowing she had to get back to her flat before Billy showed up with her brief. She quickly made her way to the nearest station, hoping to catch the train quickly to avoid waiting around. Luckily, she caught it just in time and was soon at her flat, where, she threw her briefcase and purse aside and ran into her bedroom to search for an outfit for that night. She made her way to the closet, quickly pulled out half of the dresses she owned and threw them on her bed. Usually when she went on dates, she had an idea of what she wanted to wear, but this time she was utterly blank. Nick hadn't given many details, but she had a general idea of what he meant and began throwing all of the more casual dresses aside.

'_Why must he make this difficult? I've never had this much trouble preparing for dates before! Then again, I was always told the place before we went…Stupid Nick and his lack of details!' _Niamh though with a huff, throwing aside another sundress. She didn't have a lot of truly, fancy dresses, and the two she did have were far too much for a simple dinner. They were thrown with the rejected pile before she moved onto her collection of moderate evening wear, knowing that it was only the start. After the dress was picked she would have to pick jewellery, makeup and shoes.

Just as she reached for another potential choice, a knock came at the door and she rushed to answer it, knowing that it would be Billy with the brief. However, when she opened the door, Niamh found Jake instead.

"Where's Billy?" She asked. "He said that _he_ would drop it off."

"He had to do something for Mr. Reader, Miss."

'_Of course he would help Clive first…' _Niamh thought with an eye roll. "Come in," She motioned Jake in and watched as he set several items on her coffee table. Along with a large binder, he set down a few different envelopes, two disks and a folder.

"The trial is set for Monday afternoon at one, but, Ms. Costello wants you to call her to discuss things beforehand."

"Alright. Thank you," Niamh said, eager to get him out to continue her preparations for the night.

"This is a…Nice little place. Too much purple for my taste though."

Niamh shrugged. "Violet's my favourite colour. Now, if you'll excuse me I have quite a bit of work to do."

"Alright then. Good day, Miss."

As soon as he was out the door, Niamh locked it, leaned against it and sighed before heading back to her room, deciding to worry about the brief later. She ended up going through her entire collection twice, almost ready to give up and settle, until she took one last trip to the closet. Behind her work clothes was something she had missed. She quickly pushed the other clothing aside and pulled out the dress, smiling when she looked it over. She had nearly forgotten about it. The dress had been a gift from her mother and had only been worn once at a family party upon her mum's suggestion. She hadn't thought much of it, simply putting it with her other clothes-until now.

'_It's perfect!'_ She thought-at least, she hoped it was. Just in case, she set aside a simple, black dress for backup, then, she laid out her choice on the bed and turned to her jewellery.

Meanwhile, in his own flat, Nick shuffled around his own clothing, trying to find his pre-chosen outfit. He had already decided to simply wear his best suit, the problem was locating it.

'_This is my fault for not doing the laundry!' _Nick thought as he dug through a pile of clothes on the floor. He had found the trousers and jacket in his closet behind his work clothes, but couldn't find a decent shirt to match. _'Maybe it'll teach me to hang my clothes up once in a while.' _He sighed and then glanced over at his chair when something caught his eye. Draped over his chair was a plain, white shirt he hadn't worn yet. His sister had picked it up on sale while shopping for her boyfriend's birthday gift. He got up from his spot on the floor and picked it up, it was as good as any, he decided and threw it with the other pieces of the outfit. He then pulled his best dress shoes from another pile and set them aside before proceeding to clean up the room. As he cleaned, he did some quick calculations in his head and decided that he had plenty of time and just enough extra money to go out and get at least half of his laundry done. As he gathered his clothes, Niamh sat at her coffee table flipping through the brief and discussing it with Martha via speakerphone.

"And, what are the past charges again?" She asked.

"There are two burglaries on record and accusations of fraud. It's on page ten," Martha replied, flipping though her own papers as chambers.

Niamh nodded, mostly to herself and flipped to the page in question, making notes in the margins as she put one of the discs into her computer. "If he's already got pages of form, why is he not in prison already?"

"One of the burglaries ended up being not guilty and he got out on bail on the second."

"If you ask me, he should have been in jail after the first," Niamh said as she studied the man's profile again.

"Unfortunately, it's not our call. Now, make sure you look through _everything_ before you even step into chambers on Monday."

"I will. I promise."

"Pay special attention to the unused. I want to know right away if there's anything we can use."

"Right," Niamh nodded, making a note to herself on a stray paper. "One more thing."

"What?" Martha asked, impatiently shuffling papers around.

"Thank you for this. I know you must have pulled some strings."

"You're welcome. I thought you needed it after all of the minor cases you've been doing."

"I'll call if I find anything, alright?"

"Alright. Bye." At that, Martha hung up, leaving Niamh alone with her work until she got up to start getting ready for her date at five. She decided to start with a bath and put together a solution of her two, favourite scents-lavender and vanilla. Once the bathtub was full of both bubbles and perfume, she stripped and stepped in, letting the water relax her.

'_It's been awhile since I've been able to enjoy a good bath…' _She thought, giggling as a bubble popped in front of her face. She didn't know why she was suddenly giddy, but blamed it on her anticipation of the night ahead. Her last, nice dinner date had been with Clive and it was hardly a real date. It had been uncomfortable for her and was shortly before she started avoiding him socially. She knew that night would be different. She was never uncomfortable with Nick and they always had a nice time, even if they couldn't do anything but stay in and watch a film. Niamh sighed contently at the thought while, in his own flat, Nick stood at the foot of his bed folding his recently laundered clothes, answering his phone when it rang.

"Billy?" He asked, having read the ID.

"Do you have work for Monday?" Billy asked.

"No. Why?"

"Just got a brief in. You'll be prosecuting a rape case."

"Look, I really don't…"

"You need a big case like this to show the head of chambers your range and value."

"Why don't you give it to Niamh? Surely she'd be a better choice."

"Miss Cranitch has a murder trial on Monday."

"Fine. I'll do it. Can you drop it off tomorrow?"

"Why not tonight?"

"I have plans tonight."

"Well, I have plans tomorrow. I'll have Jimmy bring it by in an hour." At that, Billy hung up, giving Nick no chance to protest.

'_Better start getting ready now, then…' _He thought, setting his clothes aside. After he put them in their proper places, he double-checked his suit, making sure that he hadn't accidently mixed it in with his regular laundry and then headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. He took a bit of time, wanting to waste some of it so that he didn't feel as if he was preparing too early. He took his time with dressing as well, to assure that he looked good and proper since they were going to was an upscale restaurant. As he was finishing up his hair, a knock came at the door and he quickly ushered Jimmy in and out, not wanting any conversation unless it was about the case.

"Billy didn't say much…Just that the details are in the brief and that the trial is at ten," Jimmy explained as he set down a binder with the signature, pink legal ribbon. "You're mostly on your own, which is what the head of chambers wants. He won't waste money on both you and Niamh if one of you is useless."

Nick gave him a look, knowing he couldn't have come up with it on his own.

"Don't look at me. Billy said it," Jimmy confessed, then, he asked, "What are you all dressed up for?"

"I'm going out, alright? Thank you for dropping this off," Nick said, practically shoving the poor clerk out the door. Once Jimmy was outside, Nick shut and locked the door and stepped toward the brief. He contemplated going through it, since he had an hour and a half to kill before he was due at Niamh's. After a moment of pondering, he sat and began to flip through the documents, making mental notes as he did so while Niamh, who had just stepped out of the bath, busied herself with her hair. After she had it styled the way she wanted, she moved onto makeup before finally getting dressed and then transferring the items from her usual purse into the one she had chosen for the night. Finally, she sat to put on her shoes, but was interrupted by a knock.

'_He's early…' _She thought as she looked at the clock, which read seven-twenty. She quickly got up, unlocked the door and headed back into her bedroom, calling out a welcome as she walked away.

Nick entered and glanced around, noting that Niamh was nowhere to be seen. Just as he was about to call for her, she spoke.

"I'll be out in a minute!" She said. "Just let me get my shoes!"

Nick nodded, though she couldn't see it and stood in his spot, waiting patiently as he glanced about the small flat, which was bigger than his, but still quite small.

In her bedroom, Niamh slipped on her shoes and double-checked her appearance in the large, dressing mirror that hung on her closet door.

'_Perfect!' _She told herself, then, she took in a deep breath and stepped out.

At the sound of footsteps, Nick looked up and nearly fainted at the sight of her. She wore a short, spaghetti-strap, dark-violet dress that stopped an inch or so above her knees. It had a strip of silver outlined with violet beads directly under her satin-covered breasts. Underneath it was a violet midsection that stopped at the skirt, which was made of the same satin as the top. She had paired it with a simple, sliver and rhinestone bangle on her left hand, matching earrings, a silver handbag, and a pair of silver pumps. Her makeup was light and simple and consisted of a light-pink lipstick, a bit of mascara and glittering, silver eye shadow that enhanced her already stunning eyes. Her hair was simply left down and curled, as it often was on their dates, but it worked well for her-especially for this outfit.

He though his simple, black suit rather plain in comparison to her outfit, but was glad that he had chosen the violet tie.

"What do you think? If it's not formal enough I can change," Niamh said.

"N…No. It's…Prefect. You look…_Stunning_."

"Thank you," Niamh replied with a blush. She then took notice of the movement behind his back and tilted her head to get a better look.

Once he registered her look, Nick reacted and pulled a small, cute bouquet of violets and white lilies from behind his back. "For you," he said.

"Violets!" Niamh said, excitedly taking the bouquet form his hands. "_And_ lilies! They're lovely…Thank you." She quickly sniffed them and turned to go into the kitchen. "Just let me get a vase…" She muttered at she searched her cupboards, quickly finding her only one with the glasses. After she arranged the flowers a bit, she set the vase on her main counter. "There. It matches perfectly."

Nick chuckled, quickly glancing about the flat again. "You do have quite a bit of violet."

"It's my favourite colour," Niamh reminded him as she stepped back into the lounge and grabbed her coat from the sofa, only to have it snatched out of her hands.

Nick held it out for her and Niamh slipped it on with a smile, quickly tying the sash once she was settled into it. He then held out his arm, which she gladly took, allowing him to lead her into the hall once she made sure the door was properly locked.

"You haven't told me where we're going," Niamh pointed out as she rested her head on his arm.

"You'll see."

"Do we have to walk or…"

"It's not that far, but we'll take a cab. It is cold."

"Alright."

Nick smiled as they walked together in silence. Once outside, he quickly hailed a cab and helped her in, a bit surprised when she leaned her head on his shoulder again. He couldn't resist the urge to run his fingers through her hair and did so until she slapped his hand away.

"You're going to mess it up," She said with a playful smile.

"Please?"

"_No_."

Nick sat back for a minute, then, with a sneaky smirk, he grabbed Niamh around her waist and tickled her, making her squeal and earning a strange look from the driver. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you squeal like a girl."

"Stop it!"

Surprisingly, he obeyed and she returned to resting on his shoulder. It was a comfortable position for her and she was pleased to have a date who actually _liked_ it. In the past, guys had told her to back off because of it and one in her sixth form class had even shoved her away for getting 'too close,' needless to say, that date didn't last long. They sat in a calm, relaxed silence until they arrived, stepping into the restaurant after Nick paid and tipped the driver. As soon as they stepped inside, the atmosphere changed, and the bustling London street life disappeared. It was replaced by a warm, calm air and the soft, romantic glow of candles.

"Oh…Nick…" Niamh gasped. "This is….wonderful. How did you ever…?"

"I told you. Odd jobs," Nick replied as they approached the maitre d', who asked,

"Name?"

"Slade. Nicholas Slade."

"Right this way."

"Since when do you use your full name?" Niamh whispered.

"It _is_ a formal occasion," He said, moving to pull out her chair from the table.

Niamh smiled and quickly removed her coat before sitting down.

Nick took the coat when she had taken it off and draped it over the back of her chair before pushing it in and taking off his own coat. As soon as he sat they were given a listing of wine, which Nick immediately put down.

"It'll be the lady's choice," He told the maitre d', who nodded and looked at Niamh.

"Really?" She whispered to Nick, who nodded in response. Niamh smiled and after quickly reading through everything, found and selected her favourite red wine.

"I will inform your sommelier. Enjoy your evening," the maitre d' said, giving Niamh a look as he stepped away.

Nick narrowed his eyes, knowing that look. _'How dare he?' _He thought, knowing that the man had clearly been checking her out.

"Is something wrong?" Niamh asked.

"No. Why?"

"No reason," She said, picking up her menu. "I have a murder trial on Monday."

"I heard."

"How?"

"Billy called me, said he wanted me to prosecute a rape case."

"I thought you didn't 'do' rape."

"That's Martha. I've never tried, and this is my first prosecution."

"First _real _prosecution you mean. Surely you did a few in law school."

"I flunked the first one," Nick admitted.

"Really?"

He nodded. "The professor was pretty harsh."

"Mine went well, though I spent the whole night worrying about it," Niamh said, looking up at the approach of the sommelier. She glanced at the label on the bottle of wine and nodded, watching as he quickly and expertly poured it, leaving after placing it in the bucket.

"Why must the staff stare at you?" Nick muttered.

"What?"

"The maitre d' _and_ the sommelier were checking you out. You didn't notice?"

"Of course not," She said, reaching across the table for his hand. "I'm focused on you."

Nick smiled and lifted his glass in a toast.

Niamh repeated the motion and they turned back to the menu, while, on the busy street several people passed by, a few of them looking in, including two familiar faces.

Billy and Jake, who had just come from chambers, were on their way to the pub to meet with a solicitor when Jake suddenly stopped. He had been looking around, and after glancing into the restaurant he felt the urge to do a double-take and quickly backed up.

"What is it?" Billy asked, annoyed with the interruption.

"Is that Nick…With _Niamh_?!" He asked, staring at them through the window.

"_What_?" Billy joined him, his eyes widening a bit at the sight.

"What do you suppose they're doing?"

"It looks like they're on a _date_."

"Are you sure? For all we know it could be a discussion dinner between colleagues."

The moment he finished speaking, Nick lifted Niamh's hand and kissed that back of it, receiving a light giggle in response as he whispered, "You're beautiful."

"Does _that_ look like a simple discussion to you?" Billy asked, watching as Niamh laughed at something he had said.

"What do we do about it?" Jake asked.

"Nothing yet. I'll speak with them on Monday. Right now, we're late," Billy replied, thinking as he walked off, _'I'll get to the bottom of this one way or another…Nothing happens in chambers without my knowledge.' _

"I have an idea," Nick said halfway through their meal. They had spent quite a bit of time conversing and had only paused to eat, giving him an idea.

"What kind of idea?" Niamh asked.

"Well…Since we're getting to know each other, why don't we start telling secrets? If you tell me one of your guilty pleasures I'll tell you one of mine."

"Alright…" Niamh said, sitting back to think for a moment. "I've got one. When I've had a bad day, or am just not feeling well…Actually I don't know if I want to tell you. I've only ever told one other guy, but he laughed at me and I've never told another."

"Come on. I promise I won't laugh."

"Okay…What I do is," She started, refilling his wine glass as she spoke. "I pour myself a nice glass of wine and put on something comfortable, something that makes me feel…girly. Then, I set up the sofa just so, with a few pillows and my favourite blanket, and, when I'm just settling in, I watch my copy of _Titanic_."

"Seriously?" Nick said with a little laugh.

Niamh kicked him under the table. "You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm sorry…It's just…_Titanic_…Really?"

"It's my favourite film! Don't tell me you've never seen it!"

"I did…Once…And fell asleep halfway through."

"We must remedy that. The next time we have a free afternoon, we'll watch it."

"It's a date then," Nick said, making her laugh.

"Your turn to tell a secret."

"Okay…Let me think…" Nick said, sitting back to ponder a moment. "When I was in sixth form, I worked in a pub for a bit, cleaning tables, wiping down the bar…that sort of thing. Anyway, there was this one night where I attempted to pick up one of the girls that just happened to be in a class of mine, only to find out she was actually on a date. Needless to say, her boyfriend wasn't amused with me and threw her drink in my face."

Niamh raised an eyebrow, utterly confused to the point of this tale.

"It was embarrassing, but I discovered that I have a taste for mixed drinks. The girly kind with strawberries and whipped cream."

"_What_?!"

Nick nodded. "It's not a habit, but more than once, I've gone on dates and passed my drink off as the woman's."

Niamh laughed. "Mixed drinks? Really? Even I don't like those!"

"Really?"

"I never took to them. I'll take a good beer over a daiquiri any day. But my favorite is champagne."

Nick shook his head, "You don't like mixed drinks, don't really have a liking for chick flicks and sleep around with colleagues. What kind of woman are you, Niamh Cranitch?" He teased.

"Your kind," Niamh whispered, giving his hand a quick squeeze.

It took Nick a moment to register her answer, and once he did he sat back a moment, unsure if it was a hint, or simply Niamh messing with him.

She smiled and they returned to their previous actions of eating and talking, bringing forth a bit more about their backgrounds and some rather interesting school tales.

"She hated me from the first day," Niamh said, speaking of a flatmate as she cut into the chocolate cake they were sharing. "It wasn't the best way to start off sixth form, but I learned to deal. To be honest, I didn't care for her or her choice of colour either."

"And what colour would that be?"

"She liked pink, and not just any pink-magenta. Magenta matched with mandarin orange. It's the most obnoxious colour combination in the world and it clashed with _my_ violet décor."

"Sounds like my sister. She's always liked strange colors, though red is her favorite."

"And you?"

"Huh?"

"Do you have a favourite colour?"

"Not really. Colours aren't really my thing; I just go with whatever suits me."

"You are such a guy," Niamh sighed.

Nick chuckled and motioned the waiter over to ask for the bill.

"If you want I can pay for…"

"_No_. I told you, I'm treating. I worked hard to bring you here."

Niamh smiled. "And I'm grateful for it. It's been a wonderful evening, magical even."

Nick smiled back and glanced at the waiter when he appeared with the bill. After counting a series of bank notes, he left both the total and a tip, using nearly all of his savings for that night.

"Ready?" He asked.

Niamh nodded and stood, allowing him to help her with her coat. "It's not too late, if you want to go elsewhere."

Nick shook his head. "I'm ready to go home. Would you like me to take you back to your flat?"

"Isn't yours closer?"

"Yes but…"

"Then we can walk there. I don't mind staying with you for awhile," Niamh said as she linked her arm with his.

"Al…Alright."

The walk back wasn't long, but it was cold. Nick and Niamh huddled together to keep warm as they walked the path to his block of flats. Once they were upstairs and inside his flat, she slipped her coat off and looked around.

"I don't know what you're looking at, there's nothing new."

"I had a wonderful time tonight," Niamh said, turning and stepping toward him. "You're quite the charmer Mr. Slade, and you obviously made it a point to take care of me."

"Of course. I _always_ take care of my women."

"So, I'm your woman now, am I?"

"That's not what I meant I…"

"Shush. I know," Niamh whispered, then she drew him towards her for a kiss. She had intended it to be small and sweet, but couldn't help her reaction as it quickly grew passionate.

After she broke away, he brought her back, deepening it and making it…possessive. Both of their senses were reeling as their bodies reacted to each other, the heat quickly growing.

Finally, Nick made his feelings known, whispering, "I want you…I want you in my bed, Niamh."

"Then take me there," Niamh gasped as she boosted herself up, and wrapped her legs around his waist. She pulled at his jacket as he carried her down his minimal hall to the bedroom, ripping it off of him shortly before they reached the door. Her shoes had fallen off along the way, but neither noticed nor cared.

"Are you sure about this?" He gasped in between kisses as he lowered her to the bed.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be in this bed with you," Niamh pointed out, bringing him back for another kiss, gently biting his lower lip, an obvious hint as to what she wanted. When their tongues finally met, she took control of the kiss, bringing forth a moan from him.

It took everything in his power to remove himself from her lips and move downwards, but he did, starting with her neck. This time, she had no intention to stop him as he gently nipped at her skin, bringing from her a series of small, sensual gasps. He slipped a hand underneath her back as he continued on, gently easing down the zipper on her dress as he kissed the tops of her newly exposed breasts. He made his way down her body, pulling the dress with him and relishing in her small gasps and sighs. Eventually he gave up his teasing and simply, almost forcefully, pulled the dress from her body, throwing it carelessly to the ground before coming up to kiss her again.

This time, Niamh didn't let him escape and kept her pressed to him as she took her hands to his shirt and fumbled with the buttons, wanting to take her time, but impatient to see and touch him. He helped by throwing it off once she finished with the buttons and then he quickly claimed her lips and headed down again, his hands finding her breasts, his fingers skimming over black lace.

"This has to go…" He whispered, speaking of her bra as he kissed her breasts. Though sexy, it was clearly in his way.

Niamh took her hands to his hair as he slipped his hand under her back again, quickly seeking and unhooking her strapless bra, which met the same fate as her dress.

He claimed her with both his hands and mouth, starting with the right breast, he used his tongue to tease her nipple before drawing it into his mouth to suck on it, making her moan. His hand caressing and fondling her untouched breast as he removed himself from the one he was focused on, placing tiny, intimate kisses and love bits over her flesh before moving to the next, giving it the same treatment as the first.

Niamh gasped when he finally removed himself from her chest and came back up to kiss her. She immediately took control of the kiss, refusing to let go until she was ready. She ran her hands down his back, arousing him with her nails before sneakily moving around to front of his trousers.

Nick tried to stop her, feeling as if it was a bit fast, but she was too quick for him. Before he knew it, her rather skilled hands had not only undone his trousers, but pulled them and his underwear halfway down. After helping her remove them fully he grabbed her wrists and forced her arms down on the bed before she could do anymore, staring and getting sucked into her gaze. It was a rather hypnotizing gaze of both lust and passion that had him immediately releasing her as he captured her again and again with deep, intimate kisses before moving down, past her breasts, to her stomach. He kissed his way downwards, running his hands along her sides, tracing every curve as he did so. His tongue slipped into her navel, making her tremble and sigh with pleasure. As he moved down he remembered that while he was fully naked, she was not as, her pants still remained. He remedied this as he descended even farther, making a sudden decision, he used his teeth to pull the final garment from her body, smiling at her gasp when he'd finally thrown it aside. Nick then moved back _up_. Starting with her ankle, he slowly kissed his way up her leg, her moans increasing with each kiss.

Niamh almost couldn't believe this was actually happening, or that he could be this bold, this dominant. _'Oh, God…What is he…?' _She thought, quickly forgetting it and all other thoughts when his tongue found the sensitive jewel of her womanhood. She let out a startled gasp and a small cry, biting her knuckles to prevent herself from getting any louder.

She was already wet with her desire for him, her sweetness like honey as he pleasured her, relishing in her soft moans, knowing he was the cause. He moved sensuously slow, licking at her with swift, sure strokes, driving her mad with the pleasure of it.

She moaned his name as he continued on, feeling just a bit guilty about taking this pleasure and leaving him with none, but the thought was easily wiped from her mind as she felt the familiar build in the pit of her stomach.

He didn't let it get that far, stopping just before he sent her over the edge. He came back up to kiss her, startled when she forcefully flipped him over.

"My turn," She purred, quickly returning his kiss before moving down his body. She nipped at his neck in the same way he had done to her, with the intention to leave her mark. She wasn't sure if he had done the same with her, but didn't really care as she moved on, creating a trail of hot kisses down his body, smiling when it brought forth a long groan from him, but she wanted to hear _more_. Her hands joined her mouth as she gently worked his flesh, bringing forth the moans that she wanted to hear. They fueled her and made her want to please him more.

Nick considered stopping her, but only for a moment. The thought immediately left a moment later as she descended farther and farther, and, without a second thought, she took him into her mouth, her tongue encircling him the entire time, driving him to new heights of pleasure.

She went on for several moments, doing as he did and stopping shortly before she sent him over the edge. She then came back up to kiss him, not at all surprised when he pressed her closer, one of his hands resting on her back as he reached over and pulled at the drawer on his nightstand. It took him only a moment to find and pull out a condom.

Noticing this, Niamh knew it was time, but refused to give up her position. Without a second thought she quickly snatched it from him, amused by his slightly shocked expression.

"Let me," She said, going back down on him after ripping the package open with her teeth, a move that he found quite sexy. She took her time pleasuring him in the act of protection, then, she came back up and straddled him, and without saying another word, she came down on him, smiling at his startled gasp. She wasted no time with her movements and leaned down to steal a kiss, stopping him just before he flipped her back over.

"_No_," She said, holding his wrist to pin him to the bed. "No. You'll do what _I_ want."

Nick knew he was at a loss and didn't bother to try again. He simply gave in as she finally got her kiss, a hard, heavy one that had her moaning with the feel of it.

When she finally released his hands, he took them to her breasts.

Niamh threw her head back and moaned as he caressed them, alternating between being gentle and rough before he ran his hands down her body, resting them on her hips. He gave them a soft squeeze, bringing forth a startled gasp from her.

It wasn't long before they both lost it and gave into their pleasure. Niamh throwing her head back and crying out without a care-if anyone else heard, so be it, she refused to keep quiet any longer.

Though he was a bit aggravated with her for crying out, Nick couldn't help but do the same-though he was quieter and less brash about it.

Finally, she collapsed next to him, trying desperately to steady her breathing as he wrapped an arm around her, gently kissing her hair.

"Well…" She finally said, "I'm pretty sure _that_ wasn't a one-night stand."

"Definitely not," Nick agreed, running a hand down her side and resting it on her bum. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a _really_ cute ass?"

"A few people," Niamh admitted. "What about you?"

"Well…I…Actually…"

Niamh giggled and rolled so that she was facing him and drew him in for a soft, sweet kiss.

He smiled against her lips and whispered, "Why don't we take round two a little slower?"

"Why don't we?" She replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Uh-uh," He said, moving over top of her. "I'm in charge this time."

When he woke the following morning, Nick was in a bit of a daze, unable to remember much about the previous night. He tried to sit up, but discovered that he couldn't…

Though she wasn't much of a cuddler, Niamh lay curled up next to him with her head resting on his chest.

He smiled at her, the memories of the previous night flooding back into his mind. They had fallen asleep after the second round, exhausted from both the day's work and their date, though neither complained about the latter. After a moment of staring, he ran his fingers through her hair, gently twirling them around her silk-like, blonde locks.

As if she knew she was being touched, Niamh shifted a bit and lifted her head, trying to make sense of the room through drowsy eyes. Part of her had no urge to get up; she was warm and comfortable and liked it.

"Good morning," Nick whispered as he continued playing with her hair.

"What time is it?"

"Why does it matter? It's Saturday. I propose that we stay here all day."

"I would, but you know that we've both got briefs to go over," Niamh said, moving so that her head was in the curve of his shoulder. "But, since it _is_ Saturday, we don't have to rush…" She whispered with a sneaky, sexy smile as she drew him in for a kiss.

Nick drew her in closer-if that was possible and kissed her again and again, deepening each one a bit more as he moved one of his hands down, resting it between her legs.

"Oh, God…I want you," Niamh gasped in between kisses, running her hands down his chest as she spoke.

"I believe I can remedy that," Nick teased as he rolled her over. He wasted no time, capturing her in a series of kisses as he lazily ran his hands over her body. Soft, warm, _sexy_. She was all of those things and more he decided as he closed his mouth over a breast, bringing forth a soft moan from her as she arched against him.

"No…Not yet…I want to play first," Nick whispered.

"Play? What are you…?" She said, her statement ending with a loud squeal as he began to tickle her. She reacted quickly, and eagerly flipped him over, giving him the same treatment, the two of them rolling about the bed, kissing, laughing and exchanging sweet words. By the time he took her, Niamh wasn't sure whether to be aggravated or pleasured, and refused to admit to actually liking his teasing, despite her reactions to it.

"You torture me," She gasped when they finally collapsed.

"You _liked_ it and you know it."

"_Maybe_," Niamh teased as she drew small, absent-minded circles on his chest.

"Are you _sure_ that we can't stay here?"

"I wish, but I really need to get to work. I could also use a cup of tea," She said with a teasing smile.

"I can give you that _and _breakfast. Why don't I scramble up some eggs instead of giving you my usual cereal?"

"I like cereal, but never by itself. There has to be fruit involved."

Nick smiled. "You're an interesting one, Miss Cranitch."

Niamh giggled. "We really need to get up. Perhaps we should start with a shower," She said as she sat up. "We need to get hot and wet and all kinds of slippery." As she spoke, she slowly stood and walked away, fully aware of Nick's wandering eyes.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Nick went after her. There was _no_ way he was giving up a Saturday morning shower date.

By the time Niamh had wrapped herself in a towel, she decided that Nick was as creative vertically as he was horizontally. He hadn't taken her, of course, but she discovered that he could do some very lovely tricks with his hands.

He had found her to be the same and thought about it as he threw together something for breakfast. She joined him awhile later, dressed in her clothes from the previous night.

"Are you sure you want to wear that?" He finally asked after they finished eating.

"I'll change when I get home. Would you mind walking with me?"

"Not at all. Anything besides that," He said, pointing to his brief.

Niamh rolled her eyes as she picked up and slipped on her shoes and coat, watching as he did the same before they stepped out. They spent their walk in silence, just enjoying the scenery and each other's company until they stopped in front of her block.

"I guess I'll see you on Monday. Maybe we could go out for lunch or something."

"Not when I have a trial at one. Rain check?"

"Alright," Nick nodded and then leaned down to give her a soft kiss. "See you."

Niamh smiled as he walked away and headed inside, her first priority being new clothes. Once she was dressed she picked up the phone and rang Martha so that they could work on the brief, knowing that it was going to be a long day.

Martha arrived at one and they spent hours hovered over documents, exchanging pens, highlighters and disks as they worked, trying to draw out all the necessary details to increase their chances of getting the verdict they wanted, only stopping for lunch, which was just a few leftovers Niamh drew from the fridge. She had a habit of making more than she would eat to give herself food for a few days and was more than willing to share.

"So, how was your date?" Martha asked.

"Fine," Niamh replied shortly, an obvious blush rising to her cheeks.

"Where did he take you?"

"I can't remember the name of it, but it was a nice, little place. There were candles and wine, as promised."

"And those flowers?" Martha pointed to the vase on the counter and picked up her glass, a little disappointed that Niamh didn't keep beer around regularly, leaving her with only water to drink.

"A little gift from him."

"What time did you get home last night?"

"Who are you, my mother?!"

"You're blushing."

"I am not!"

"This would be easier if you would just tell me."

"Eleven…This morning," Niamh admitted, adding, "Don't you say _anything_!"

"I won't…I will have to congratulate Nick though."

"_Martha_!"

"What?"

They laughed and Niamh turned back to her computer, studying the details of the pictures of the victim and crime scene, adding more to her pages of notes.

"Are there any DNA results?" She asked.

"Only for the victim, which doesn't help us."

"The victim's husband picked out client out of a police lineup, correct?"

Martha nodded.

"Who's to say he didn't mix him up with someone else?"

"The eyes, he says, were a giveaway. It's difficult because it's a stranger."

"What?"

"In many murder cases, the murderer is someone the victim knew, but they had no relation to this man as far as I can see," Martha explained. "Unless there's something in the unused?"

Niamh shook her head. "No. Not yet, anyway. I have yet to get through the whole thing."

"Keep looking. Any little detail will help."

Niamh nodded and they spent the remainder of the day and much of the next reviewing the details, preparing their defense and drawing out every little piece of information they could.

When Niamh walked into chambers Monday morning, she felt both confident and nervous, her biggest wish being that she didn't completely screw it up, since it was her first murder trial. She went over details in her head as she headed to her and Nick's room, her path soon being blocked by Billy.

"I need to speak with you," He said.

"Can it wait? I have to prepare for…"

"It'll only take a minute," Billy promised.

"Fine," Niamh sighed and followed him into the clerks' room, which was surprisingly empty, making her worry. "What is this? Am I being thrown out? Did I…?"

"Settle down. I just wanted to talk with you in private."

"Alright…"

"What's going on between you and Mr. Slade?"

"What do you mean?" Niamh asked, thinking, _'What would make him ask that? And how does he know anything? The only one I've told is Martha, and I know she'd __**never**__ go behind my back.' _

"I saw you with him on Friday. Jake and I both did, actually."

Niamh stepped back a little, trying to hide her rising nervousness. She didn't want him on anyone in chambers to know about them, not yet. It was no business of their other colleagues and she felt that their knowing would make a mess of things.

"A nice restaurant, fancy clothes, candles, wine…It looked like a date to me."

"Well, it wasn't. He invited me out to discuss our cases. We like to work together and get ideas from each other. It's rather helpful since we're both new."

"Why do I have the feeling you're lying to me?"

"I _don't_ lie!" Niamh said, obviously offended. Of course, she _did_ lie; everyone did at one point in their lives, did they not? It was not as if she lied about anything important, her personal life was her business.

"Fine. If there's really nothing going on…"

"There isn't."

"If there's really nothing going on," Billy repeated, aggravated with her interruption. "You may go."

Niamh simply turned and left, knowing she'd have to talk to Nick about being more careful on their dates, not that it was either of their faults. She simply wanted him to be aware of it.

As soon as Niamh had left, the other clerks returned to the room, though, Billy didn't notice, she simply stared out the window. _'I know what I saw. She is lying, but I can't force to speak,' _He thought, watching as Martha stepped into chambers. _'I can however, get someone else to tell me.'_ He knew Martha had been spending time with Niamh lately and figured that if anything was going on with her, she'd know. He knew that women talked, and not just about cases and solicitors. Without a second thought he headed to her room, knocking to make his presence known.

"What now, Billy?" Martha sighed. "I have a lot to do and I…" She trailed off as he closed the door.

"What do you know about the relationship between Miss Cranitch and Mr. Slade?"

"Anyone can see that they're friends," Martha replied with an annoyed sigh, thinking, _'Why is he asking me? It's none of his business.' _

"Do 'friends' usually go out to fancy restaurants together on Friday nights?"

"Depends on the occasion."

"Like a date?"

Martha sighed and threw down the coat she had been holding. "I know what you're doing and you're not going to get anything from me. What they choose do to in their private life is no business of mine _or_ yours! I don't know what made you think I would give you any sort of information. If you're so curious ask Niamh or Nick. Now, if you excuse me, I have a trial to prepare for," At that, she left the room and headed to Niamh's to share her recent findings from that morning.

Billy sighed, thinking, _'There's something strange going on here and I __**will**__ get to the bottom of it. Nothing happens in these chambers without my knowledge and I intend to keep it that way.' _


	5. Dinner with Niamh's Parents

_**Dinner with Niamh's Parents **_

_**A/N: **_Here we have another time jump. Being honest, I'd rather not bore my audience with endless filler, so I tend to just cover majour events. And, Niamh's dinner dress was borrowed from the film, _City of Life. _It's the dress Olga wore to Guy's party. Also, I swear I'm not a review whore, but I refuse to believe that out of all of people that have read this story, not one of you has even _one_ word to say. All I'm asking for is ONE review, as I would love to know how I'm doing and if posting the rest is even worth it. Please and thank you.

_Timeline Mid-November 2011_

* * *

Nick yawned as he headed down the hall to Niamh's flat, having promised to come by at seven-thirty so that they could have breakfast before heading to chambers for the day.

'_I hope that whatever she has planned wakes me up…Stupid complicated brief kept me up half the night…' _He thought as he knocked on the door, surprised to receive a welcome call. He quickly opened it and stopped dead in his tracks.

In front of him, Niamh stood with one of her feet resting on the coffee table as she pulled a stocking up her leg, clad in nothing but her black, court skirt and a rather lacy, dark-violet, push-up bra that not only framed her breasts nicely, but gave them a bit of a lift.

"Jesus Niamh! You could at least be half-dressed when I come over!" He finally said, resisting the urge to stare at her chest.

"I am half-dressed," Niamh said as she stood up straight and reached for the camisole resting on the sofa behind her.

"No! You're half-naked!"

"I don't see what the issue is. You've seen me _fully_ naked before, Nick!" Niamh pointed out as she pulled on a dark-violet blouse.

Nick tried to speak, but couldn't come up with anything to say, knowing she was right. Finally he said, "Shouldn't you have been ready by now?! You _knew _I was coming!"

"I woke up late. I was up working on my defense until two in the morning."

"And let me guess…You still have to do your hair and makeup."

"You don't mind, do you?" Niamh asked.

Nick shook his head, thinking, _'Of course I do! We're supposed to be at breakfast!' _

Niamh quickly ducked into the bathroom to apply her usual, light layer of makeup and after contemplating a few different choices, she put her hair in its usual clip and headed out.

"Sorry about that," She said as she pulled her coat and court shoes on and then grabbed her stuff. "Let's go see what we can find for breakfast."

They held hands as they walked out and choose a small, casual place for breakfast.

"You know why I asked you out, right?" Niamh asked once they were seated.

"You're my girlfriend and wanted to go on a date," Nick said.

"I need to talk to you."

"Okay…" Nick said, hoping that he hadn't done something wrong.

"My parents want you to come over for dinner."

"What?"

"We're at the two month mark and it's sort of…a tradition for my boyfriends to come home for dinner at this point."

"_What_?" Nick repeated, this time with more confusion.

"Well, at this point we know it's starting to get serious, and my parents would like to meet you before it progresses any further."

Nick raised an eyebrow as the food arrived, unsure of what to say.

"I know that look…_Please_ don't tell me you're breaking up with me," Niamh pleaded.

"_What_?! Why would I do that?"

"I've had boyfriends break up with me in the past because they didn't want to go to dinner with my father. They were intimidated because he's a judge."

"Are you serious? That's pathetic. I would never do that to anyone, especially you. Besides, I'm a barrister; I think I'm used to intimidating judges."

"Yes, but you're not dating all of the intimating judges' daughters."

"True. How about you give me a few days to think it over and look at my calendar to pick a date?"

"Okay," Niamh nodded and left it alone as she turned to her food. "What's your latest case about?"

"Two latest. I have a bail app at ten and my trial starts at ten thirty. It's a small but complicated misdemeanor trial. You?"

"My trial's at eleven. Vehicle TWOC. From what I understand the client was clearly identified on surveillance camera, but denies it. I'm not quite sure what the defense is, but I am sure he will fill me in. Are you going to eat that?"

"Picking off of others' plates is _rude_," Nick pointed out.

"I'm _not _picking. Yet."

Nick sighed and pushed the small bowl of strawberries toward her.

"Thank you," Niamh smiled and promptly poured them over what was left of her pancakes.

"I still can't believe you ate _all_ of that," Nick said after they had finished.

"It wasn't really that much. Just a few pancakes and eggs."

"And _all_ that fruit."

"Fruit is good for you. And I don't eat like this every day. I usually have smaller meals, but since we were going out I got a bit more," Niamh explained as she stood and grabbed her coat and briefcase. "Come on before we're both late."

"The trials aren't until later."

"We still need time to finalize the preparations. Besides, I told you I was having trouble with mine."

"Alright," Nick sighed as Niamh took his hand and led him down the street.

She wanted to ask him if he had thought on her proposition, but knew that it wouldn't be right to pester him so soon after asking. She then decided to give him a day or two before asking, just in case he forgot.

'_I don't think there's any way to get out of it despite my nerves…_ Nick thought as Niamh let out a content sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. _'Besides that would be stupid. I knew I would have to meet her parents sooner or later. I don't even know why the thought makes me nervous, it's not like I don't know my feelings or am trying to hide anything.'_ He thought, soon being dragged from his mind by Niamh's yawn.

"Tired?" He asked.

She nodded. "I told you I was working until two in the morning."

"Then maybe we should go home and have naptime instead?"

"Nice try. But, I'm fine. I'll take a nap after my trial."

"I've got a better idea. Why don't you come over? We could watch a film or something."

Niamh thought for a minute and nodded. "Alright. I should be free around one-thirty. I'll meet you at your flat."

The rest of their walk continued in silence with bits of small talk here and there until they reached chambers. Once there, they exchanged a brief kiss before entering and heading to their room, where they worked for a bit before Nick left first at nine, followed by Niamh a half hour later.

Once she arrived in court, she immediately sought out the solicitor's rep and her client for the usual pre-trial meeting.

"It says here that you were seen clearly on the Powells' neighbour's security camera. Is there any way to disprove that? An alibi perhaps?" Niamh asked as she sat across the table from her client.

"No. I was there," The client, Marcus, said.

"So we're pleading guilty?"

"No."

"But you just admitted that you did it."

"I did, but I don't feel guilty. The bastard had it coming."

"How so?"

"He was my friend and needed a bit of money for his son's school debts, so I agreed to loan him a few pounds. He was supposed to pay me one-hundred and fifty pounds a month until he paid off the debt, then he was late. I gave him a few days, which turned into weeks and soon I ended up empty handed for three months, so I confiscated the car to compensate."

"So, you _did_ steal the car?" Niamh asked, thinking, _'Does this man honestly think I can use __**that**__ as a defense?' _

"No, I…_repossessed_ it."

"That is the worst defense I have _ever_ heard!" Niamh snapped. "No jury is going to believe that and you _know_ it."

"Well they're going to have to because I'm not pleading."

"Then you will have to find a new barrister, because I refuse to run such a ludicrous defense. It doesn't even fit under statutory defense!"

"What do you mean?"

"Under statutory defense you have to prove that you either had the authority to do it or that you would have the owner's consent if the owner knew of the taking and its circumstances. You had neither the consent or the authority, as, this was a private dispute and you are in no place to take matters into your hands like this," At that, she stood and began to gather her things.

"Wait! I haven't waited for this long for this _not_ to go to trial! Besides you can't leave."

"Unless you give me a _real_ defense, I won't stay. I am not looking like a moron and jeopardizing my job because you're stubborn."

"Wait…Can we…talk about this…What happens if I plead?"

"If you plead then we could argue for a lesser sentence or even bail. This is only your first offense, right?"

"Yes."

"We may be argue for bail, or negotiate with the owner. From what I read it wasn't aggravated, nor was it a death drive."

"Death…drive?"

"Joy ride," Niamh translated.

"Well…I can't say that," Marcus admitted.

"What did you do?" Niamh asked as she sat back down.

"I'll admit that I did take a bit of a joy ride, though I wasn't reckless. It was more like a revenge ride."

Niamh sighed. "Are we pleading?"

"I don't think I have a choice now."

"Alright then. Now we're getting somewhere." She quickly opened her notebook back up. "Now that we're pleading, tell me why you should get a low sentence. The maximum is a fine up to level five and/or six months imprisonment from your offence. Now, we may be able to negotiate the fine with the owner…"

"I don't want to negotiate anything with the bastard. Why should I pay him if he owes me?"

"The fine goes to the government, not the vehicle owner," Niamh said, not knowing if it was completely true or not.

"Alright then."

"Now, tell me why you should get a lesser sentence, minus the fine. Regardless, it will have to be paid because of the damage to the vehicle's window," She said, remembering the note in the brief.

"Well, to be honest I'm not a bad guy, never have been, really. And, I can't go to prison. I have a girlfriend who's pregnant. I can't exactly take care of her while I'm in prison."

"Alright," Niamh said, thinking, _'That's a good start…' _

Awhile later, they stood in front of the bench in the magistrate's court arguing the client's sentence.

"As you know, Mr. Faine admits to the crime. Our only matter is to discuss a sentence," Niamh said.

"We feel that the typical punishment should be sufficient," The main judge said.

"No it isn't. Not for him anyway. Mr. Faine is not a criminal, well, not in the sense we think of them anyway. Granted, this was a bit of a step too far in a personal matter, but jail time will do no good. He has informed me that he has a girlfriend and a child on the way. Now, tell me, do you really wish to deprive an expectant mother of the father's assistance and income?"

"Are you trying to turn this into a sob story, Miss Cranitch?" One of the bench members asked. "This is a courtroom, not a soap opera."

"I am just making you aware of my client's situation. I believe it more reasonable to negotiate with the owner, as, this all began with a private manner."

"Is said owner with us today?"

"Yes. Mr. Powell?" She said, turning to the small group of observers behind her.

The man in question immediately stood.

"May I call him?"

"Of course."

Niamh gave a nod and Mr. Powell was brought to the witness stand. "Can you tell us about the dispute you had with my client?"

"Awhile ago, he loaned me some money for my son's school expenses. I was grateful and made a deal to pay him back."

"But you have been late recently, correct?"

"I got tied up with some things and money became tight. It thought I could handle it but…"

"Why didn't you explain this to him?"

"I tried but…he wouldn't listen. I had every intention to pay him back when I got the money but…He took matters into his own hands instead and took my vehicle."

"From what I understand, the window was broken, but there was no other damage."

"Correct."

"And this man had no issues with you before this event occurred and vice versa."

"That is also correct."

"In that case, if the bench allows it, would you be willing to negotiate a fine with the client?"

"If it would set things right. I don't want him to go to jail, he's a good man who just made a mistake."

"Sir, we have heard from both ends the situation and Mr. Faine's true nature and circumstance. It is only up to you to decide the result," Niamh said, leaving with a smile when the final result was decided. She returned to chambers in good spirits, and, after writing the result on the brief, stuck it in the proper pigeon hole for the solicitor. As soon as she turned around, she found herself facing Billy.

"Just got a new one in and you're the only one free," He said, handing it to her.

"Drug scandal?" Niamh said, reading the headline.

"If you could call it that. Just some teenagers attempting to grow plants in the closet."

"It says there was a teacher involved."

"Just do it."

"The trial isn't for another two days…"

"There was a delay with a witness is all," Billy said as he walked away.

Niamh sighed and tucked the brief under her shoulder as she headed to her and Nick's room to grab some things before heading home, as, she felt more comfortable working there. Though it was cold, she decided to walk, and even stopped to buy ice cream along the way, intending to bring it over when she went to see Nick.

Once she arrived at home, she kicked off her shoes, dropped her stuff on the sofa and walked off to change her clothes. After a bit of contemplation she decided to keep her usual camisole on and replaced her skirt and blazer with a pair of jeans and a dark-violet cardigan. She returned to the lounge and set her brief on the coffee table before heading off into the kitchen for a quick lunch, which was just a leftover meal she pulled from the fridge. She alternated between eating and working for awhile before being interrupted by her mobile.

"Hello?" She said, not even looking at the ID.

"Niamh? Are you alright?" Nick asked. "It's two already."

"What?" Niamh gasped, quickly looking at the clock. "I'm sorry, I just got this brief and I've been working since I got home. But, I'll be there soon, I promise."

"Alright, see you when you get here," Nick said before hanging up.

Niamh sighed and quickly collected her papers, then shoved as much of them as she could in her brief case and, after a quick look at her shoe collection she decided on a simple pair of black pumps, slipped on her coat and headed off with her handbag, brief and ice cream in hand.

"You look…cute," Nick said when he answered the door.

"Can you wait until I take my jacket off to say that?" Niamh said as she kicked her shoes off.

"You left your hair tied back."

"I know. I kind of liked it and I told you I was busy."

"Well…" He stepped over. "I like it down," He said, quickly pulling the clip out of her hair.

"_Nick_!"

"No. You need to relax. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No. But you can start serving this ice cream," Niamh said, holding out the plastic shopping bag.

Nick sighed and took it, asking as he headed into the kitchen, "What do you feel like watching?"

"Hm?" Niamh said back as she set her brief on the coffee table.

"I invited you over to watch a film, remember?"

"Nothing yet, there are some things I want to look at."

"Come _on_ Niamh. I invited you over for a date, not a work session."

"I think this is a bit more important Nick. We can watch a film in a bit. Don't you have something to do?"

Nick shook his head as he reappeared with the ice cream. "Billy didn't give me anything, well, not yet anyway. He said it would be biked over."

Niamh nodded and scooted closer to Nick, who had taken a place next to her on the floor.

He smiled and, getting a sudden idea, held up a spoonful of ice cream for her, surprised when she actually ate it. She then did the same for him, then they shared a light kiss and Niamh sighed contently as she cuddled up to him.

"I thought you had to work," Nick pointed out.

"I do. I'm just taking a break," She said before accepting another spoonful of ice cream.

Nick gave a small laugh and lightly kissed her on the head, accepting his own spoonful moments later.

They sat, laughing, talking and eating for about twenty minutes before having to stop at the sound of a knock.

'_That's probably the bike….' _Nick thought as he got up to answer, finding, as he expected, a delivery man waiting for him.

"Nicholas Slade?" He asked.

"Yes," Nick nodded and the man held out a paper for him to sign.

"Sign here, and then initial here."

Nick did so and handed it back. In return he was handed a rather large brief. "Thank you," He said.

The man simply nodded and left.

Nick closed the door behind him and moved to set his brief next to Niamh's.

"What's that?" She asked.

"You _know_ what it is Niamh."

"What's the crime?"

"Didn't check…" He said, leaning over to read the top of the binder. "Attempted murder," He paused for a moment. "Wait…_What_?! There has to be a mistake."

"No, it says Nicholas Slade," Niamh said, looking at the heading.

"Why would they give me a case like _this_?"

"Maybe Billy is finally recognizing your skill?" Niamh suggested. "Or maybe…" She paused.

"What?"

"Well, since Martha's taking up all of the high profile cases, her old work has to go somewhere. Perhaps they're simply splitting it up between you and I."

"And Clive."

Niamh nodded. "Just be glad that you're getting better work," She said as she stood and headed into the kitchen to wash the dishes. "Why don't you start on that while I work out some of mine?"

"I told you…" Nick started, only to be interrupted.

"I know, I know. You invited me over to watch a film, but you and I both know that work is more important. It'll only be for a few hours. We'll watch the film after that."

"Promise?"

"Yes. What did you have in mind to watch anyway?"

"I don't…really know," Nick admitted. "What do you want to see?"

"Whatever you want. I picked last time we went to the cinema, it's your turn," She said. To avoid unnecessary arguments, they had gotten into the habit of taking turns when watching films both at the cinema and during their stay-in dates.

"I'll think about it," Nick replied, thinking, _'And add that to my list of things to think about…' _He sighed. _'I know I like Niamh…but am I really ready to meet her parents?' _

As soon as she finished, Niamh went back to her spot and was soon joined by Nick. They shared the space as best they could with all of the binders and documents, with some of them ending up on the floor. And, after about three hours, Niamh sighed and sat back.

"I'm done with this," She decided.

Nick looked up from his work. "I was done two hours ago."

"You're not funny," She said. "Besides, I think we deserve a break. Did you decide on a film?"

"Give me a few minutes," Nick said, quickly getting up while Niamh organized and set aside her brief.

"Do you want me to get anything?"

"Sure. There should be some crisps in the pantry."

Niamh simply nodded and searched the kitchen while Nick went through his small film collection, eventually deciding on one of his action films just as Niamh came back and set a bowl on the coffee table. She then threw off her cardigan and made herself comfortable on the sofa as Nick stood to set up the player.

"Wait…before you start that…" She said, "I'm cold."

Nick sighed. "Hold on." He then headed into his bedroom and after some quick searching, returned with a dark-blue throw blanket, that he quickly draped over Niamh.

"Thank you," She said, pulling it around herself.

Nick gave a quick nod and joined her after starting the film.

Niamh looked up for a moment and moved closer so she could cuddle up to him, smiling as he gently brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. She sighed contently and reached over for the crisps. She knew she probably shouldn't be eating them on top of the ice cream, but figured that she'd just work it off later.

"This is stupid, why doesn't he just run?" She asked halfway through the film.

Nick shrugged.

"You know, if the guys in these films stopped trying to be the hero and took some time to think, they'd get more done and all of those people wouldn't have to die!"

"It's just a film Niamh. It doesn't have to make sense."

"I know, but…"

"Niamh, shush," Nick whispered, gently rubbing her back as he spoke.

Niamh sighed contentedly and laid her head back down as Nick pulled the blanket up on her.

He smiled as he gently ran a hand through her hair, thinking that she looked adorable cuddled up next to him. And, of course, his thoughts went back to her request. _'Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad…I __**know**__ exactly how I feel…I think. And, it's not like I have a hidden agenda. Besides, I should have known this was coming eventually. Better sooner than later, I guess.' _He thought. Though he was close to making up his mind, he was still unsure, and knew that he would have to look at the calendar before truly making his decision. He turned his attention back to the television and, when the film ended, asked, "Do you want to watch another one? Or…"

"No. Whatever is on the telly is fine," Niamh replied, waiting as he flipped channels, eventually deciding on a news programme. She sighed as it went on, and felt her tiredness catching up with her, and, despite her efforts to try and stay awake, she eventually drifted off to sleep.

"Niamh," Nick said awhile later. "What do you think of…Niamh?" He stopped and glanced at her, curious about her lack of reaction, and smiled once he saw that she was asleep. He thought to get up and let her sleep until he realized that he couldn't, not without disturbing her, as she was lying on him. _'I can't get up…But…I should. I have to get back to work and she… looks…comfortable.'_ Finally, he sighed and gently began to shake her. "Niamh…_Niamh_…"

"No…Sleepy…" Niamh muttered, clutching the blanket tighter around her as she buried her head in its spot.

"Niamh, you _have_ to get up," Nick urged.

Niamh groaned and forced herself up, rubbing her eyes as she did so.

"Would you like to stay here for the night? You have pyjamas here, remember?" He asked, not wanting her walking around alone at night. Especially when she was tired.

After thinking for a moment, she slowly nodded.

"Alright, come on." He took her hand and helped her up, then took the lead as they headed into his bedroom. He quickly went through the drawer where he kept both Niamh and Patricia's things and handed over her pyjamas. He had convinced her to leave a few clothes over just in case she had to stay unexpectedly and had some of his own clothes over at Niamh's flat as well, though he had yet to stay over.

"Thank you," Niamh yawned and moved into the bathroom to change, then she went through her usual bedtime routine as best as she could being out of her flat and came back into the room in a very simple pyjama set that consisted of black, cotton trousers and a grey spaghetti-strap top with a black heart printed on the left that sat on her breast with three smaller hearts above it.

"Cute," Nick complimented.

Niamh said nothing and went to climb into bed, only to have Nick snatch the duvet out of her hands. She thought to say something, but ignored it when she realized that he was simply helping. So, she climbed into bed and let him cover her.

"Do you want this blanket?" He asked, holding up the one that Niamh had dragged into the bedroom with her.

She nodded and he draped that over the duvet.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Good. I'll be back in later. There's some work I want to do," At that, Nick leaned down and gave her a quick, goodnight kiss on the head before making his way back to the lounge to continue with his brief. As he worked, his thoughts faded in and out to Niamh and her request until he finally stopped them by making up his mind. _'This is __**stupid**__!' _He decided. _'I'm thinking about this too hard and I hate it!' _He quickly shuffled some papers around and pulled out a planner. After opening it, he flipped to the current week, noted that Saturday was free and before he could do any more thinking, he penned in the dinner. _'I'll just…tell her in the morning.'_ He thought before turning back to his work and, when he felt he had done enough, he got up and decided to go to bed. Once he returned to his bedroom he laughed a little at the sight of Niamh lying directly in the middle of his bed. But, while he thought she was adorable, she needed to move. After he changed, he tried getting her to roll over twice to no avail and then took to shaking her. "Niamh…Niamh," He whispered.

"_No_," She muttered in response.

"Niamh you need to move," He said, gently pushing her again.

Finally getting the hint, Niamh rolled over to one side with a small whimper.

Nick smiled as he climbed into bed and gently moved a strand of hair from her face before kissing her cheek. "Good night, Niamh."

She responded with a content sigh as he rolled over to his own side of the bed. When he woke the next morning, he found Niamh curled up next to him with her head burrowed in between the pillow and his shoulder. He smiled and watched her sleep for a few moments before his alarm went off, waking her up too. She reached over and turned it off before rolling over and looking up at him.

"Morning," She muttered.

"Good morning," Nick replied, then, suddenly remembering his decision, he said, "I have some news for you."

"Hmm?"

"I've decided to accept your offer. I'm free on Saturday if you want to visit your parents then."

"Really?" She asked.

Nick nodded and was immediately pulled into her arms.

"Thank you," Niamh whispered.

Nick shrugged, then said, "What time do you have to be in court?"

"I don't. My trial isn't until tomorrow, but I might go to chambers to do some work."

"Are you up for a shower date before work?"

"Not when you have to be in court at nine and I have to go home and change for chambers."

Nick sighed. "Please?" He asked, leaning down to kiss her.

"No," Niamh turned her head away. "We don't have time right now. Rain check?"

"Alright," Nick sighed again. "But I'll hold you to that rain check."

"Fine with me," Niamh said, rolling over and drawing him in for a light kiss. "You get in the shower and I'll make breakfast."

Nick simply nodded and got up, grateful to be able to get done first, as Niamh often took _forever_ to take her morning shower.

Niamh simply got up, dug through a drawer and pulled on a simple set of casual clothes to head home in. Then, she gathered her clothes from the previous night and shoved them in her handbag before moving into the kitchen to start on breakfast. Unfortunately, the only breakfast food she found was cereal.

"Nick, where's all your food?" She asked once he came out.

"At the supermarket."

After a small laugh Niamh replied, "You're not funny. Would you like me to pick you up a few things? I wouldn't mind."

"No, I'll take care of it. I just haven't had time," Nick said, not wanting to admit that he was a bit short on food money at the moment.

"You sure?"

He nodded. "I got tangled up in my work. I'll go after my trial today."

"Alright."

"You're not eating?"

"I don't like cereal with marshmallows."

"But the marshmallows are the best part."

Niamh shook her head, "No. After you're finished, do you want to walk back to my flat with me?"

"I would say 'yes' but I have work to do, remember?"

"Oh, right…see you later then," Niamh said as she gathered her things. Once she returned to her own flat, she quickly got her clothes for the day together and headed into the bathroom for a morning shower. Afterwards, she decided on a simple breakfast of apple slices and peanut butter, surprised that Nick hadn't even had peanut butter in flat.

'_How can he __**not**__ have peanut butter? It's one of the essential foods.' _She thought as she finished up and then grabbed her mobile, hoping that at least one of her parents was home. She quickly dialed and got her mum.

"Hi mum, it's me," She said.

"I know. We _do_ have caller ID, Niamh," Valerie said.

"I have some news for you."

"Good or bad?"

"Good. Nick wants to come over for dinner on Saturday."

There was a bit of shuffling on the other line as Valerie rifled through her calendar. "I have an event that morning, but we should be done by four…So, would seven be alright?"

"Sure."

"I wish I could say more, but I'm running a bit late, so I'll ring you later."

"Alright, talk to you later. Bye mum," At that, she hung up and stood to finish getting ready before heading off to Chambers for the day. She spent her time rereading over her notes and adding new ones until a knock interrupted her.

"Jake?" She said when she looked up.

"This just came in for you, miss," He said, handing her _another_ brief.

"What?" She said, looking at the label.

"Solicitor asked for you, apparently."

"_What_?!" Niamh said again, quickly glancing at the solicitor name. _'Why would Camp Frogett want me? Perhaps it's a test?' _

"Who delivered this?" She asked.

"A bike. The message that came with it said that the case was minor, and something for you to handle."

Niamh glanced at it again and sighed. _'Another traffic case? Really? Why do solicitors hate me?' _

"Alright. Thank you," She said. _'So I guess I'm double booked tomorrow. This one doesn't seem to be much, a five-minute mention, maybe.' _She sighed again and started on it, alternating between that and her bigger case, until her mobile rang.

"Hello?" She asked absent-mindedly.

"Do you have a minute, Angel?" Valerie said over the line.

"_Mum_! I thought you said you'd stop calling me that!"

"And I thought I told you that you can't break twenty years of habit."

Niamh groaned. "What do you want Mum?"

"I called your father earlier and he's fine with dinner. Do you want to make it a bit dressy like we have in the past?"

"Of course. I love having an excuse to put on a little black dress."

"Not _too_ little I hope."

"Mum…"

"Niamh…" Valerie said back.

"Never mind. So, it's all set, then?" Niamh asked.

"Yes."

"And what do you plan to make?"

"Now Angel, you know that's always a surprise."

"I know. I hate to sound rude, but I have to get back to work."

"It's alright. I understand. I'll see you on Saturday."

"Alright, see you," At that, Niamh hung up and sighed. _'I love her, I do. But she really needs to stop calling me Angel…If she says it to Nick…Oh, God!' _Niamh groaned at the thought and put her head in her hands.

"Something wrong?" Martha asked as she entered the room.

"It's nothing," Niamh said. "Why are you here?"

"I work here."

"You know what I mean."

"I was looking for Nick, actually. I need a favour," Martha explained, leaning against the desk.

"He said he had a trial at nine. I haven't seen him since this morning. What do you need?"

"I just needed him to go through the unused on my case."

"Martha, he's not your pupil anymore," Niamh pointed out.

"It doesn't mean that he can't do a favour here and there. So if you see him, can you tell him I was looking for him?"

"Of course," Niamh nodded as she left and turned back to her work until she deemed it time to go home. On the way home, she decided to take a small break, as she was in the mood to bake. She decided on peanut butter cup cookies and realized that she'd have to stop to pick up the mini peanut butter cups she used to make them. Once she had done that, she headed home and immediately changed into suitable clothing and, halfway through her baking, as she was adding a few odds and ends, her mobile rang. She quickly stopped, put it on speaker and said, "Hello?"

"Niamh?" Nick said.

"You can hear me, right?"

"Perfectly."

"Alright. I have you on speaker. I'm baking, but I did want to give you a ring. My parents are okay with dinner on Saturday. And, it'll be a bit dressy so wear something nice…like one of your good work suits."

"Do I have to?" Nick teased.

"Yes. It's always been like that. Martha was looking for you in chambers earlier," Niamh said as she moved to add more chips to her batter.

"I guess I'll have to give her a ring then. I went grocery shopping."

"She just wanted you to help her with something."

"Oh, so how do these dinners usually go in your house?"

"Usually Papa asks a lot of questions about your intentions with me, and mum tries to act normal. She never tells me what she's making beforehand, but I can guarantee that you'll like it. I have yet to meet someone who doesn't like her cooking."

"If it's anything like yours, I'm sure it'll be great," He said, flinching at the sound of banging on the other end. "Niamh, _what_ are you doing?"

"I told you, baking," She said, using an ice cream scoop to shape the cookies on the tray.

"Baking what, exactly?"

"Cookies. I was in the mood for something small and sweet. Which reminds me, there's always desert following dinner. How was your trial?"

"It's still going on, but it's not looking too well. The evidence outweighs the defense."

"Look into it more. Attempted murder is hard charge to deal with. I would help, but as of today, I'm double booked."

"It's fine. I'll figure something out."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it," Nick said before he hung up, thinking, _'For more reasons than one…' _He sighed and went back to work on his brief. The trial was listed for three more days, and at the end of those three days he'd have to take on his next challenge: meeting Niamh's parents. He had no idea why the idea frightened him, but it did. He simply figured it was normal for this sort of thing and did his best to shake it off and remain calm when he arrived to pick Niamh up on Saturday evening. He had spent the week asking a few questions here and there, and had found out that they would be taking the underground into Camden and that, regarding attire, she was wearing black. After a bit of contemplating, he ended up wearing his best black suit, with a new, white shirt that he even took the time to iron, a matching black tie with just a few red and white stripes and his usual court shoes that he had shined in hopes of making a good impression.

'_Okay…I can do this…I think…'_ He thought as he knocked on the door. He heard footsteps and a bit of shuffling before Niamh finally opened the door.

"You're early," She said.

"I always am, and it's for the best. You know how the tube is."

"Right. Give me a minute, I was in the middle of looking for my other shoe…I think it's under the bed," She muttered the last part to herself as she walked off into the bedroom. After a bit more shuffling, she came back out with a pair of black, strappy sandals in hand. "Sorry about that," She said, sitting to put her shoes on. "What do you think?" She stood to reveal her full outfit which consisted of only a simple, black, halter-top dress. The neckline went down just below her breasts and was met with what looked like a silver belt buckle that had a long piece of fabric pulled through it that hung down with the skirt. The back of it fell a bit past her knees, but the front had an asymmetrical hemline that came to a V just _above_ her knees. It was matched with the sandals and a small, black clutch. Her makeup was light and simple, almost as if she was going to court and consisted of a light layer of dark-violet eye shadow with just a bit of onyx mixed in and a light-pink lipstick and her hair was pulled back in its usual, twisted ponytail.

"You look beautiful. But…I think you'd look better with your hair down."

"I was thinking about that, but…"

"Trust me."

Niamh hesitated a moment, but pulled the clip out and shook her hair out a bit.

"Much better," Nick said.

Niamh smiled and picked up her jacket, finally noticing the flowers Nick held as she slipped it on. "More flowers?" She said.

"What? Oh. These aren't for you. They're for your mum. I was taught that you're supposed to give the lady of the house a gift when you come over. She's not allergic, is she?"

"No. I think she'll love them. Let's go before we're late," Niamh said as they headed out the door.

The nearest station wasn't far, but the wait for the train was longer than expected as, it was Saturday night. Though Niamh didn't complain, Nick worried for a moment what would happen if they were late.

Catching his worried look, she said, "Don't worry if we're a few minutes late. They won't mind, especially if we explain that it was a simple tube delay."

Nick smiled at her reassurance as she gently laid her head against his arm. Moments later, the train finally arrived and he led her on, trying to ignore the lingering glances of some of the men around them. _'Were they not taught that it's rude to stare?' _Nick thought, turning to Niamh when she set her hand on top of his.

"You look worried."

"I'm fine. It's just my nerves."

Niamh nodded in understanding and returned to her previous position. The ride was spent in silence, both of them simply enjoying the time together before having to get off at their designated stop.

"Where to from here?" Nick asked.

"This way," Niamh said, pulling at his wrist. "It's a bit of a walk, but it's worth it. I can show you some of the sites around along the way. See that little ice cream shop across the street?"

"Yes."

"Mum said that's where I had my first ice cream cone when I was two. And the park coming up? When Felicia and I were eight, her mum took us to the playground during the winter and we helped Pippa make her first snow angel."

Nick smiled and listened carefully as Niamh pointed out places and relayed stories from when she was little. Every other place seemed to have some sort of story to go with it, and she went on and on until they finally made their way into the neighborhood twenty minutes later.

"Well, here we are," She said.

"Here we are…" Nick repeated nervously.

"You have nothing to worry about. I'm sure they'll love you."

"I know, but…"

"Nick, look at me," Niamh said, turning his face toward her. As soon as he looked into her eyes she gave him a soft, gentle, reassuring kiss. "You'll be fine. Come on." She took his hand and led him up to the door. "Ready?"

He nodded and took in a breath as Niamh knocked on the door. Soon, they were greeted by a woman about the same height as Niamh with the same colour blonde hair, except hers was just a bit longer, falling a bit past her shoulders. She had warm, brown eyes and wore a simple, spaghetti-strap black dress that showed off her slim frame rather well and made Nick see where Niamh got her good looks from.

"Niamh!" The woman greeted, stepping aside to let them in with a gesture.

"Mum," Niamh greeted, giving her a quick hug. "Papa," She said, moving to the man standing behind her mother. He had dark, brown hair and blue eyes that matched his daughter's, but, while Niamh's were stunning, his were rather…intimidating to Nick. Frame wise, he was somewhere in the middle, with broad shoulders and a slightly muscular build. He wore a suit similar to Nick's, only the tie was blue and violet rather than red.

After the brief greeting, Niamh turned back to Nick and said, "Nick, these are my parents. Stephen and Valerie Cranitch."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Nick Slade," Nick said, holding his hand out for Valerie to shake. "These are for you, Mrs. Cranitch." He held out the flowers.

"Call me Valerie," Valerie said. "Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful," She said, quickly taking them from him.

"Aren't you going to shake my hand?" Stephen asked.

"Barristers don't shake hands," Nick reminded him, knowing that it was a test.

Stephen shot a brief, _slightly_ impressed look toward Valerie as a timer went off in the background.

"That's the bread…" She said. "I'm sorry. I'm not completely finished yet. I got a late start.

"It's alright," Niamh assured her as she pulled off her coat. "Take your time." After properly hanging up her jacket she moved into the kitchen behind her mum with Nick following a moment later.

He watched as Valerie pulled a tray from the oven to check and asked, "I hope you don't mind my asking, but what are you making?"

"Chicken parmesan over a bed of pasta. I was in the mood for Italian," Valerie explained as she added a bit of cheese to the platter. "Besides, it's one of Angel's favourites."

"_Mum_!" Niamh hissed, the embarrassment clear on her face as she thought, _'How could she say that in front of him?!' _

"Oh…sorry," Valerie said absentmindedly, realizing her small mistake.

"Angel?" Nick asked with a small chuckle.

"It's my mum's name for me…" Niamh muttered, trying to keep the embarrassment out of her voice, knowing she was failing.

"Oh, Niamh, you don't have to be so embarrassed," Nick said. "If it makes you feel any better, my parents have a name for me too."

"What is it?" She asked.

"Nick."

"You're not funny!"

"No…" Nick replied with a cheeky smile.

"Since this will be another twenty minutes or so, why don't you show Nick some of our albums?" Valerie suggested.

"Alright," Niamh said, quickly grabbing Nick's hand and dragging him into the lounge.

While she searched the bookshelf, he looked at all of the pictures on it, the wall, and the few along the top of the entertainment centre. "They're _all_ you," He said to Niamh.

"I told you I was an only child. Did you think I was lying?"

"No, but…When did you get this done?" He asked, fixing his gaze on a picture of her in her black suit with the purple blouse. It was a well staged shot of her sitting in a chair in front of a bookshelf.

"A month after I started my pupilage. My parents wanted some pictures of me in chambers attire. Mainly because mum wanted to show them off. Come here."

Nick turned and found her on the sofa with a few books around her. After one last glance at the picture, he joined her and immediately had a book placed in his lap. "Is this it?" He asked, looking at the small pile.

"Of me, yes. Unless you're interested in my parents' wedding album?"

"No. It's just…"

"Hm?" Niamh said, opening the cover, which was neatly labeled, 'Niamh: Years one through three, 1990-1993.

"You don't seem to have a lot of pictures…Your first three years are in _one_ album?"

"My parents have demanding jobs, so there wasn't time to capture _every_ moment. The upside is that I don't have most of the embarrassing pictures that everyone else does."

"So…No naked baby pictures to show off?" Nick teased.

"Nope," She said with a smile as Nick looked over the first two pages, which were pictures from when she was born and her first day home. Though, to him something was missing. And, when he finally figured out what it was, he asked,

"Niamh, where's your father in these pictures?"

"Oh…He…Uh…He…Was preparing for a trial that day."

"I would think that the birth of his daughter would be more important than a trial."

Niamh sighed and quickly looked around, making sure her father was still in the kitchen with her mum. "That's not all of it," She whispered. "The truth is that…not only was he preparing a trial, but…he was disappointed in me."

"How can you be disappointed in a newborn?"

"He wanted a boy. In fact, he completely believed that I would be a boy and he and mum went out and bought all boy things. He had all of these plans to raise his son to be his own and send him off to the best schools…And then, I popped out. He got used to it after a few days, and even though I _know_ he loves me, sometimes I feel that more is expected of me because I'm a girl and not the son he wanted."

"Niamh…"

"Anyway, on a happier note," She said, flipping through another book as Nick glanced at the wall again, his gaze fixed on a picture of what looked like a sports team.

"You played field hockey?" He asked after another look.

"Hm? Oh, yes. I started when I was twelve, but quit during year eleven to focus seriously on studying law and getting into sixth form."

"Were you good?"

"Really good, actually. I was told that I could've been captain if I hadn't quit."

Nick nodded and turned his attention back to her and then a book buried under the albums.

"What's that?"

"Hm? Oh," Niamh said, following his gaze. "My book."

"Your…book?"

"My baby book," She clarified, pulling out the pink book in question. The front cover was custom made, and the book itself was titled 'Our Angel.'

'_Is that where her mum got the name?' _He asked himself as she flipped the book open and laid it across his lap before proceeding to read aloud.

"My name is Niamh Cranitch. I was born on February 11, 1990. My name is special because it means 'bright.' It was chosen because of my bright, blue eyes," She said with a smile and an obvious sparkle in her eye. She loved being able to trust him enough to share these bits and pieces of her life with him. Her other boyfriends had never cared much for these sorts of things, nor had she trusted them enough to show them. "This is my favourite page," She said a few minutes later, turning to one entitled 'My Firsts.' "My first crawl, my first steps…"

"Your first word was 'Papa'?" Nick asked, reading ahead.

Niamh nodded. "Mum was a little disappointed, but I learned how to say 'mum' awhile later. My parents told me I was a quiet child. I worried them quite a bit because of it, actually."

Nick nodded and picked up a later album from when Niamh was in secondary school. "You wore a uniform…" He muttered.

"I told you I went to public school, didn't I?"

Nick shook his head. "You didn't, but I assumed that was the case."

"Didn't you wear a uniform?"

"I did…but it wasn't like this…" He said, focusing on the quality of the clothes, which looked well made and just a bit fancy.

"Nick, Niamh," Valerie interrupted. "Dinner is ready now."

"Yes, Mum," Niamh nodded, pulled at Nick's hand and led him into the dining room. She took her usual place in the middle of the table, between her parents, who sat on either end, and motioned for Nick to sit across from her. Moments later, Valerie came in with the plates.

"Thank you," Niamh said politely, as she had always been taught.

Nick took the hint and said the same, earning a smile from Valerie.

"So, Nick…Why don't you tell us about yourself?" Valerie said as soon as everyone had been served.

"Well…I like music. I was in a band for awhile, but we broke up shortly before going our separate ways in sixth form."

"What about your parents?" Stephen asked, wanting to know where he came from and if his background made him suitable enough to be with his daughter. Luckily, she had yet to bring home any undesirables.

"Well, my mum is a tailor, my father writes for a newspaper and I have a younger sister. She's in school for fashion," Nick replied before finally turning to his food.

"And you're a barrister," Stephen said.

Nick simply nodded, as he was eating.

"Barrister in training," Niamh corrected him. "Nick's on the same level I am."

"And you're in the same chambers?" Valerie asked for clarification.

Niamh nodded and then looked at her father. "I know what you're thinking," She said. "And, no it doesn't affect our work at all. Court battles are never anything personal. We're just doing our jobs."

Stephen simply nodded, though he wasn't fond of the idea of Niamh dating a close colleague, he knew better than to say anything, as that little detail was far from important. He knew Niamh was smart enough to separate her professional and private lives and had seen her do it in school once or twice when he showed up for the occasional meeting and parents' days. From the reactions he had gotten from her peers it was obvious that she didn't talk about her personal life much, which was a rather good skill to have, he thought.

"How about you tell us a little more about yourself?" Valerie suggested.

"Well, I already covered the music and my family…What else do you want to know?"

There was a brief silence while Valerie thought for a minute, but before she could say anything, Stephen bluntly asked, "How long have you been sleeping with my daughter?" He knew Niamh had sex, not that he liked to think about it, nor did it matter, since she was an adult. However, as a father, it still bugged him, though he had never asked that question of any of her previous boyfriends, something about Nick made him want to ask. He caught the occasional glances Niamh gave him and their closeness when they were looking over the albums; she seemed almost too comfortable around Nick and he couldn't remember her ever being so close to her other boyfriends, though she did sleep with them. For some reason, something about Nick struck him as…different…

"_Papa_!" Niamh hissed, giving him a swift kick under the table.

"Stephen!" Valerie whispered, after nearly choking on her wine.

Nick simply sat back a moment and replied, "A month and a half…maybe two months?"

"Nick!" Niamh hissed as she kicked _him_.

"What? He asked," Nick said, as her father sat back, a little shocked that he even answered. Though he'd never asked the question before, when he'd implied such things other men got nervous or had lied to his face. Nick was the first to actually answer him.

'_I can't believe he actually answered…but on the other hand, he does have this cheekiness…is that normal for northerners?' _Stephen thought, remembering a few other people he had met from up north.

After a small, awkward silence, Valerie said, "Anyway…let's move on, shall we?"

"Yes," Niamh nodded, then she looked at Nick, "Why don't you tell them a story or two? You have plenty of them."

"Or I could tell you _my_ favourite story," Valerie said.

"Mum, _no_."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so!" Niamh snapped.

"What story?" Nick asked.

"Don't ask. Just start talking before she does," Niamh said as she turned back to her plate, which was half empty.

"Alright…" Nick said, pausing to think a moment. "I guess I could tell you about the last time we all went on holiday together. It was right after I had finished sixth form…"

Nick managed to keep Valerie and Stephen distracted with the story, which could be considered heartwarming but, just a little bit awkward at times. He then paused to eat while Stephen started a discussion with Niamh about old cases they had done that Nick quickly jumped into.

Valerie sat back and pretended to look interested until they were finished and then proceeded to relay one or two stories about the family to give Nick a better picture of them.

"Niamh sounds like my sister," Nick laughed, interrupting Valerie in the middle of a tale. "She was always trying to climb trees and do things to show up the boys around the neighbourhood."

Niamh blushed slightly and said, "It wasn't fair that they thought they could do things that I couldn't."

"Some of them you really couldn't," Valerie said. "There's a reason you have that scar on your arm."

"Scar?" Nick asked.

"There's a small one on my elbow. When I was seven I somehow thought it was a good idea to climb up a tree after one of my schoolmates, but I slipped and fell backwards. I got that along with a few other scrapes and a nasty bruise on my shoulder. Nana loved getting _that_ phone call."

"Nana?" Nick asked.

"My mother," Valerie clarified. "She used to watch Niamh when she was younger because our jobs are a bit demanding. Stephen and I weren't available that day, so she got the call."

"Well, you and Papa weren't amused either."

"That's because my daughter didn't belong doing those reckless things," Stephen said as Niamh stood to take their empty plates.

"I'll get that, Angel," Valerie said. "You sit back down."

"Mum," Niamh groaned.

"Oh, sorry, _Niamh_."

Nick gave a small laugh as Niamh sat back down and Valerie grabbed the plates.

"Why don't we move into the lounge? The dishes can wait and I have desert ready," Valerie suggested.

"It doesn't matter to me," Nick shrugged and they all stood and moved from the table into the lounge.

Niamh took a place on the sofa and motioned for Nick to sit with her while her father sat in his usual recliner. Moments later, Valerie appeared with a tray of brownies and took a place next to Nick and Niamh, who had shifted around so that Niamh was cuddling up to him.

Stephen narrowed his eyes, clearly disapproving of the sight as Nick gently ran his fingers through Niamh's hair, making her sigh contentedly.

"So, Nick," Valerie said, offering both him and Niamh dessert. "You've told us a few stories, but what about your parents themselves? What are they like?"

"My mum is off her rocker most of the time, which is where Patricia gets it from, but she's a pretty nice woman. She's always been around when we need her and my father is the laid back type. They're big family people," He said, hoping that it would make him look good.

Before Valerie could say anything else, Nick asked, "What kind of brownies are these?"

"Double fudge with peanut butter. Niamh's favourite."

"I love you," Niamh said to Valerie as she picked up another small brownie.

"So, Niamh, in court on Monday?" Stephen asked.

"Yes," Niamh nodded. "It's nothing big, just a bail app."

"What about you, Nick?"

"I just finished an attempted murder trial and don't have anything lined up…that I know of. You?"

"I'm booked for the next few months," Stephen said.

"I am too," Valerie said. "I have a wedding in two weeks."

"I know, I'm helping," Niamh said. She had been helping her mum with the planning for a few months and agreed to help since it was just one weekend and she needed the money.

"You plan weddings?" Nick asked.

"No. We just do the food," Valerie said. "Niamh makes a great assistant and additional server when needed."

"Do we really need to get into that, mum? It's not important."

"It is if you want to make extra money."

"I do need to pay rent and eat," Niamh pointed out, smiling as Nick draped his arm around her waist.

Valerie held in a dreamy sigh, she couldn't remember Niamh ever being so close or comfortable enough with her other boyfriends to cuddle up to them during the usually harrowing visit to meet the parents. She seemed perfectly content and Valerie was pleased. Knowing that Niamh was comfortable with him and could be that way without him having ulterior motives made her like him even more.

Stephen, however, was still on the fence about him. While he did like Nick, there was just one little thing that did not sit right with him. Though, he couldn't pinpoint it exactly, he figured that it stemmed from the fact that Nick was sleeping with his daughter. He also wasn't too appreciative of Nick's boldness in cuddling his daughter in front of him and glared at the arm wrapped around Niamh's waist as she laughed at something Nick whispered.

They talked for a bit longer before they all decided that it was getting late and that they were simply lingering.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," Nick said as he helped Niamh slip her coat on.

"You too, Nick," Valerie said with a nod. "If it helps, I think you're a great guy and you and Niamh are _so_ cute together."

"_Mum_," Niamh hissed.

"I'll see you in a few weeks, Angel."

Niamh groaned and said, "I'll see you soon. You too, Papa."

"Have a safe trip home," He said.

Niamh nodded and turned to leave with Nick following until Valerie stopped him. "Wait a moment, Nick," She said.

He shrugged and headed back in while Niamh waited outside.

"Now, though what I just said is true," Valerie whispered, "Niamh is still my daughter and if you hurt her I will not hesitate to _kick your ass_. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Nick nodded, just a bit intimidated.

Valerie simply nodded and allowed Nick to leave.

"What was that about?" Niamh asked.

"Nothing," Nick shrugged and held his arm out for her to take.

"So, what did you think?" She asked as she gently laid her head on his shoulder.

"About what?"

"My parents."

"Oh, they're…nice. I like your mum but your father is a bit…intimidating."

"I warned you."

"He doesn't seem to like me very much."

"Actually, he does. He's just not very open about it. You would _know_ if he didn't like you, trust me. Give him some time; he can actually be kind of sweet once you get to know him."

"You have to say that. You're his daughter."

"It's true. He's a bit tough around the edges, but he has his moments."

Nick nodded. "Why does your mum call you 'Angel'?"

Niamh shrugged. "I was told that she said it once when I was a baby and it stuck."

"I think it's cute…Can I use it?"

"_NO_! Even she isn't supposed to say it, but it's too much of a habit for her to stop."

"Your father doesn't say it?"

"No. He just calls me by name."

"I like your mum, and I can see where you get your good looks from."

"Stop it!" Niamh said as an obvious blush crept up on her.

"And you were right about her cooking. I hate to say it, but she might beat you."

"I already knew that. Not only does she do it for a living, but she did teach me. The only thing she really can't get right is spinach dip, mainly because she doesn't like it."

"Neither do I."

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Niamh muttered as they headed into the Underground station. They talked the whole way back and ultimately decided to go to her flat for the night after he realized that, even though they had been dating for two months now, he had never stayed overnight at her place, she had always come to see him or he had left.

"Why is that?" He asked as they walked down the hall to her flat.

Niamh shrugged. "I guess I just found it easier to come to your place and whenever we were here you left early because you had a trial or something."

"Yet, some of my clothes are there."

"You gave them to me and told me to keep them just in case," Niamh reminded him as she unlocked the door.

"Oh, right…" He muttered as they headed in and Niamh flipped on the light.

"Do you want anything to drink?" She offered as she slipped off her coat and shoes.

"Have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?" Nick asked, not answering the question as he slipped off his own coat and shoes.

"Yes, when you picked me up," She said, curious as to the point of the conversation.

"Well, I'm saying it again. You're beautiful and that dress looks amazing on you," He said as he stepped a bit closer to her.

"What are you getting at?" She asked as he closed the space between them.

"I want you," He whispered. "Besides, you need to be punished for torturing me by making me meet your parents."

"But, you weren't being tortured," Niamh whispered a bit seductively as Nick set his hands on her waist.

"You're getting punished anyway." At that, he leaned in and their lips met in a series of soft, gentle, kisses.

Niamh thought to push him away, thinking herself too tired for it, until he suddenly deepened it, washing all thoughts of rejection from her mind. She moaned against his lips as he backed her up against the wall.

He gently teased and bit at her lower lip, and she quickly took the hint as his hands went to her dress and she hooked a leg around his waist, moaning when she felt his teeth gently grazing her neck, followed by a series of soft kisses that went down to her breasts.

He smiled against her skin and made his way back up to her lips, quickly taking control of the kiss as his hands went for the knot holding her dress on and hers for his tie, which she quickly threw off. He then stepped back a minute and threw off his blazer to make it easier for her.

Niamh moaned appreciatively when he came back to kiss her, and quickly went for the buttons of his shirt, glad that she didn't have to fumble with the blazer. She worked fast, struggling a bit to get them undone with her trembling hands, but she soon gave up being careful and simply ripped the rest of the shirt open, ignoring his aggravated sigh. She could care less about his clothes at the moment, the only thing on her mind was him and her hands on the flesh she craved. She ran her hands over him, her nails gently scraping against the skin, earning a soft groan from him as he finally managed to untie her dress. It fell in one swift motion and pooled at her feet, and, as soon as it hit the ground, Nick's eyes widened a bit in surprise.

"You're not wearing a bra," He whispered before kissing her again.

"I can't with that dress," Niamh said.

"I like it," He said before going for her lips again. His hands started to wander, teasing and caressing any piece of bare skin he could reach as he kissed down her neck again.

Niamh's breath hitched as he slid a hand up her leg, and, before he could get any farther, she gasped, "Bed. _Now_."

Nick responded with another kiss as he quickly lifted her up, allowing her to wrap both legs around him as he headed into her bedroom. Caught in the heat of the moment, he only broke the kiss out of necessity to see ahead of him, quickly realizing that, despite the small space, he wasn't quite sure where he was going.

"On…the right…" She gasped in between kisses, ending with a soft moan as he carefully lowered her down on the bed. And, before he had the chance to fully climb on top of her, she grabbed his arms and aggressively flipped him over. Not wanting to linger, she quickly moved down his neck, nipping at the skin in hopes of leaving a mark or two. However, she tried to keep them low, near where his neck met his shoulder so they would be easy to hide.

He groaned as she moved further down, her hands joining the teasing, along with her teeth, which she gently, sensually scraped against his chest.

Niamh smiled at the reaction. His moans only fueled her, making her want to please him more. She then began to act a bit more roughly. The patterns she had been forming became more precise and were formed by her nails rather than just her fingers. She continued downward with this method, pausing for only a moment before she went for his belt. As always, she was quick about it. Her skilled hands easily undid the buckle and stripped him.

Caught in the pleasure, Nick nearly forgot that this was supposed to be _her_ punishment, but remembered as soon as she came back up to kiss him. He tangled a hand in her hair, pulled her in closer-if that was possible, and after a moment or two of struggle, took control of the kiss. And, once she was distracted, he quickly and easily rolled _her_ over.

She thought to protest, but was silenced with another kiss.

"No," Nick whispered. "This is _your_ punishment."

She gasped as he moved down her neck, gently nipping at the tender skin along the way as he made a path to her breasts.

He started with the left one, gently placing small, soft, lingering kisses on the soft mound of flesh. He took his time, wanting both to savour and tease her.

She moaned once he finally closed his mouth over her breast, resisting the urge to cry out as he carefully teased her, rolling her nipple about with his tongue, teasing it to a taut peak before taking it fully into his mouth to suck on it. Overwhelmed with pleasure, Niamh threw her head back and let out a soft-high pitched cry, as she arched against him, hoping he'd take the hint.

Nick got the hint, but ignored it as he moved over to give her other breast the same treatment as the first, groaning when he felt her hands in his hair as his ran up and down her sides, caressing the skin and drawing patterns in their path. He then slowly moved down her body, creating similar patterns down her stomach, and placing light, soft kisses on every piece of bare skin he came across. He slipped his tongue into her naval and smiled against her skin at the surprised gasp he received in response, her moans fueling him as his had her. His hands moved further down and he teased the edges of black lace that made up her minimal string bikini as he pulled it off of her.

At this point, Niamh wasn't thinking straight any longer. She was caught in a wave of pleasure, with no control over her body other than to make it breathe, though by now most of her hot breaths had turned into either gasps or irrepressible moans, both of which came out when he came back up to kiss her lips again.

"Nick…" She gasped in between kisses. "Please…"

"No…I'm not done with you," He replied, ending with another kiss before going back down, placing one, light kiss on her stomach before moving between her legs. He grasped one of them, kissing his way up her thigh until he found her, just her, perfectly ready for him. Not wasting another second, he slowly slid his tongue over her, earning a small cry of pleasure in response.

She wasn't sure whether to feel annoyed or pleasured by his teasing. She wanted-no_ needed_ him, but instead of responding to her hints, he simply ignored them. She thought to say something but could only manage to gasp, "Oh, God…_Nick_," as he picked up the pace. In no time at all, Niamh felt the familiar, and, at this point, more than welcome heat forming in pit of her stomach. She couldn't hold back the tremble that came with it, which, unfortunately, Nick caught onto. He stopped for a moment and started again far more slowly, delaying her desperately needed release.

She moaned with both pleasure and frustration. Why did he have to torture her so?

He continued for as long as he could stand it, stopping only a moment before she finally gave into her overwhelming pleasure. "Oh, no you don't," He whispered as he came back up to kiss her. "Where…do you…?"

"The…same place…as…yours," Niamh replied, struggling to speak through hot breaths and the small trembles that came with the end of her orgasm. She then grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down for another kiss as he reached over and pulled open the drawer on her nightstand. Never taking his eyes or his lips of off her, he quickly felt around until he found exactly what he was looking for. To save time, he ripped the package open with his teeth, and within two seconds, he had the condom in hand, and in another three, he was sheathed and ready. Not wasting a moment he came up and thrust into her, hard and deep. He didn't bother with being gentle or setting a rhythm. He simply started at and kept up a steady speed that formed into its own rhythm.

Niamh moaned his name, quickly grabbed onto his shoulders for support and wrapped her legs around him moments later, pulling him in closer _and_ deeper.

Nick soon took to kissing her again, to muffle her cries of passion as best as he could while trying to hold back his own.

However, there was _no_ holding back when Niamh threw her head back and cried out her release, which came just a moment before his. She clung to him until he collapsed next to her, desperately trying to steady his breathing.

Once things had settled, he rolled over, looked at her and whispered, "You will be the death of me, Niamh Cranitch."

"I think I should be the one saying that," She replied. "_You_ were the one doing the teasing."

"You _liked_ it and you know it."

"Maybe…But," Niamh said, slowly getting up and on top of him. "Now it's _my_ turn." As soon as she leaned down to kiss him, he flipped her over again, only to be immediately flipped the other way. "_Behave_," She warned, holding his arms down as she kissed him and then slowly began to move down his body…

They were together once more after that and fell asleep soon afterwards, with Nick being the first to wake up the following morning at nine. For a minute, he forgot where he was-until he noticed Niamh sleeping soundly next to him. He smiled at her and rolled over on his side, only to feel movement a few moments later as Niamh woke, turned over and gently kissed his shoulder.

"Good morning…" She whispered as she wrapped her arm around his waist.

Nick smiled and turned over to look at her. "Your hair is a mess," He teased.

"Well…" She started as she slowly glided her hand down his body. "The part of you that wakes up first doesn't notice it…In fact, it doesn't even know that I have hair," Niamh teased as she slowly climbed on top of him and straddled him.

"I don't think so…" He said as he quickly sat up, putting her in his lap. "If we're going to do this, we're going to be equals…" As he finished, he closed his mouth over a breast, earning a soft moan in response.

"Works for me," She gasped before kissing him again. Their kisses were soft, but impassioned as they ran their hands over each other, until, finally, ignoring the pretense of foreplay, Niamh wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer as she sank down onto him.

She held onto him for support, moaning as he took his mouth to her breasts.

They moaned together when they finally gave into their pleasure, and, afterwards, Nick whispered, "I believe you owe me a shower date."

"Even after…?"

"Best time for it."

Niamh giggled. "Come on then. I'll see what I can do." She then slowly got up and sauntered into the bathroom with him following close behind. Once in the shower, they let their hands wander, and what was supposed to be a quick shower, led into a rather long, lazy Sunday morning. Not that either of them complained, of course.

The following morning, they were both in court. Nick for a burglary and Niamh for another drug charge as Clive's junior.

"So, how was dinner?" Martha asked as they walked up to the courthouse. She was to do a quick bail app before heading to the Bailey for a kidnapping trial.

"Okay. My father had the nerve to ask Nick how long he was sleeping with me," Niamh replied.

Martha laughed. "Sounds like something my mum would ask. Though, she usually asked me rather than my boyfriends and we had a nice laugh about it afterwards."

"It wasn't funny, it was embarrassing."

"I would have thought it funny."

"Of course you would…" Niamh muttered. "Don't you _ever _get embarrassed?"

"Niamh, I'm thirty-seven, not much embarrasses me anymore. And, if you're talking in relation to your situation, my mum and I have always been a bit too open about things like that."

"And your dad?"

"He walked out when I was two. I haven't seen him in thirty-five years."

"Oh, sorry…"

"Don't be. It's because of that I'm the way I am. Because of it, my mum became a strong, independent woman and taught me how to be the same. Besides, he wasn't much of a dad when he was around anyway. Mum calls it a blessing in disguise."

"Then I guess I'm not sorry."

"Good. Now come on, we should get a move on before we're late."

"You're the one who's falling behind," Niamh laughed as she grabbed Martha's hand and began to run.

"Niamh! We're wearing heels!"

"And?"

"This isn't professional."

"It's more unprofessional to be late."

"True," Martha admitted as she quickly caught up with and fell into step with Niamh, both knowing that they had busy days ahead of them.


	6. Niamh's Birth

_**One Plus One Equals Niamh**_

_**A/N: **_This is something different. Remember how Niamh mentioned she was expected to be a boy when she was born? Well, this is that story. There were more issues regarding it than were revealed and I thought it would make for an interesting tale. It also gives a nice insight to her parents and explains much of their characters.

Also, I hate (and I mean _HATE)_ to beg, but can someone please say _something_?! I hate to sound petty, but I'm tired of writing for no feedback. I KNOW people are reading and I'm _sick_ of feeling like I'm doing something wrong, and that I'm a bad writer. I feel like I'm writing for no one, which is frustrating. All I'm asking for is one, just ONE little review. _Please!_

* * *

_Timeline: Tale starts in May of 1989 and goes into 1990. _

By the time Valerie finally made trudged up to the door to the house, she was ready to collapse. The wedding reception she had been serving at had started at six and not ended until around ten. And, though it had been all clear by ten thirty, by the time the cleaning was done, it was past midnight.

'_This is the fourth day in a row I've been on this schedule…But, I guess that's to be expected with wedding season…And on top of that, it __**is**__ Saturday'_ She thought as she unlocked the door. Once inside, she re-locked it, dropped her bags and, after a quick glance around, simply collapsed on the sofa. _'I'll just…sit…for a minute…' _She thought right before falling into a deep sleep.

Hearing the noise, Stephen stirred from his uneasy sleep and sat up in bed. He always worried when Valerie was out late at these events, especially since it was wedding season and she was working non-stop. _'That must be her…' _He thought, quickly getting up and heading downstairs, where he smiled at the sight of his wife passed out on the sofa. _'At least she made it farther than the floor this time.' _He then chuckled a bit as the other night came to mind. He had come out the following morning to find her asleep sitting up against the couch.

"Valerie…" He whispered as he moved a strand of her blonde hair out of her face before gently nudging her. "Come on, Sweetheart. You have to get up."

At first, Valerie just stirred a bit, but after a bit more nudging she got up and slowly rubbed her eyes, blinking sleepily at Stephen after she did so.

"Look at you," He said with a slight shake of the head. "You're exhausted. Come on, I'll help you to bed."

She just gave a sleepy nod and took the hand he offered, allowing him to lead her upstairs to their bedroom. She yawned as she fumbled with the buttons on her double-breasted, chef's jacket and slowly slipped it and her shirt off as Stephen turned on the light and then went through her pyjamas, soon handing her a short-sleeved, light-blue nightgown. She said nothing as she took it and pulled it on after slipping out of her skirt, then, she turned around and climbed into bed.

"Comfortable?" Stephen asked as he pulled the blankets up on her, making sure she was well covered as she settled down.

Valerie gave a half-hearted nod and quickly drifted off to sleep while Stephen turned off the lights and then climbed in next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist once he was settled.

The following morning, he was up and out the door by eight for breakfast with a colleague and an hour later, Valerie woke on the rumpled bed alone. She groggily reached over for the clock and let out a sigh at the time.

'_The event isn't until four, but I have to be there by two to help set up,' _She reminded herself as she got up, picking up her forgotten clothes as she made her way downstairs. She sighed again as she threw the clothes in the washing machine and made a mental note to take care of the laundry later and moved into the kitchen to make breakfast, deciding on a simple omelet, turning her attention to the window as she cooked. "It's raining again," She muttered. "At least this one isn't a garden party."

Immediately after she finished eating, she got to work on some small chores and then started to get ready for work. As she was getting ready to head out, Stephen came back in, and while she double-checked a task list in the kitchen, he snuck up behind her and grabbed her around the waist making her squeal.

"_Stephen_ _Cranitch_!" She snapped. "Can you not see that I'm doing something?"

"Can you not see that it's been days since I've been able to even touch you?"

"I'm sorry, but you _know_ how the spring schedule is."

"Do they ever give you off?"

"Yes. I'm off this Tuesday, which I'll use to catch up on the shopping. You can survive until then, right?"

"Of course. I'm not completely oblivious, Val."

Valerie narrowed her eyes in warning. She had always _hated_ when people called her 'Val,' as she never liked the way it sounded. She had a full name for a reason. "Now, you know better than to call me that."

"And you know better than to give me that look," Stephen teased as he flicked her nose.

She laughed. "I have to get going, but I'll see you tonight."

"Far before midnight I hope."

"No promises. I love you," She said, leaning up for her usual, goodbye kiss.

"I love you too," Stephen muttered once she broke off.

She smiled as she left, though her husband could be a bit rough around the edges, she knew how to bring out his affectionate side and reveled in it. _'I guess Daddy is right, in some ways I do have Stephen wrapped around my finger,' _She thought with another smile as she drove off. As far as she was concerned, she was living her dream. They'd been married for three years, but together for six, were already working on securing their home and had steady, secure jobs. She was content and comfortable in her life and liked it, even if she was worked to death every spring.

'_Here we go again…'_ She thought as she pulled up to the church where the small, retirement party they were catering was. The first thing she saw was the project manager in a heated argument with one of the young dessert chefs in the main hall, but tried to ignore it as she walked past until he spoke again.

"Give me one good reason why we should do it _your_ way," He snapped.

"It's not _my_ way, it's the client's way. If you don't like it, you can leave," The manager snapped.

"Fine with me. This is just ridiculous," The man snapped as he turned and stomped off.

The manager sighed and quickly looked around as Valerie tried to sneak off to make it look like she was just on her way and hadn't been listening.

"Cranitch!"

"Yes, Deborah?"

"You're in charge of desserts now."

"_What_?!"

"Listen, do you know about the angel ice sculpture?"

"Yes."

"Last night the client called saying that he wants a cross on the main cake resembling the one the angel is holding and one on each of the cupcakes. He forgot to tell us beforehand and William refused to it, thinking that it was too soon, even though I _know_ it can be done with enough talent and help," Deborah explained.

"And I'm talent?"

"Third best dessert chef I have, behind William and Clara, who would be doing it if she wasn't on holiday. Please, Valerie. We only have a small amount of time. Take the two trainees if you have to."

"Alright. I'll try."

"Well, at least you're willing to attempt it," Deborah said as she picked up her walkie-talkie. "Head server Jonathan," She said.

"Yes?" Jonathan said over his own walkie.

"Valerie is in charge of desserts now. Can you meet with her about the serving procedures and setup?"

"Can you give me twenty minutes?"

"Yes. I'll just send her into the kitchen."

"Fine with me."

Deborah put the walkie back in her back pocket and sighed, "Alright, you're on. Everything you need is already in the kitchen."

Valerie nodded and ran off. It didn't take her long to get a team together and create a plan. She even took Deborah's advice and pulled the trainees into it to help, only stopping when she had to talk to Jonathan about the serving requests from the client. Somehow, the managed to pull it all together within three hours-the extra time being bought due to the cake not having to be set out until around six.

"See? Was that so hard?" Deborah muttered as she looked at Valerie's work. "They may not all match exactly, but handmade hardly ever does. Besides, it makes it look authentic."

"Thank you," Valerie said, nearly out of breath due to all her running around.

"Take fifteen and then come back to finish off the displays. You need it."

Valerie nodded and opted to go outside for some fresh air. Standing on a covered path, she leaned against a wall and frowned a bit at the stains on her jacket before smiling at them. _'They may be a pain in the arse to remove, but they're also the signs of a job well done.' _After a few moments, she opted for a small walk around the church before returning to the kitchen to supervise the setting up of the dessert platters.

"Are we ready?" Deborah asked as they put the finishing touches on the last platter.

"Yes Ma'am," Valerie nodded.

"Good." Deborah gestured to her servers, who took all of the platters, minus the cake. "That's for you," She told Valerie. "The head dessert chef always carries the main piece, remember?"

"Oh…Right," Valerie said as she carefully picked up the platter and followed the line of servers into the dining area, placing the cake in the middle of the dessert display when asked too. She then stood back while someone gave an announcement thanking them for the desserts before they were all ushered back into the kitchen for cleanup, which took around three hours, as, the bosses were perfectionists.

"You wouldn't want people to come into your kitchen and leave you a mess," Deborah reminded everyone of one of their mottos as she supervised and aided in the cleaning operation. By ten they were finally let go and Valerie was at home before midnight for the first time in four days.

"Look who's home," Stephen teased as he looked over a brief at the dining table.

"I _know_," Valerie sighed.

"I made dinner. Your plate is in the fridge."

"What is it?"

"Breaded chicken with rice and vegetables."

"Thank you," She said, giving him an exhausted smile. "I'll eat after my bath. I feel dirty."

"Alright."

Valerie said nothing back and simply headed upstairs, grabbed her pyjamas and quickly ran a bath. _'It's about time I got to sit down…' _She thought with a contented sigh as she settled into a hot, bubble bath. _'Good thing too. I'm working __**two **__events tomorrow. One small school function and then an anniversary party in the evening. I wonder what Stephen's doing…' _She thought, deciding to ask him as she made her way back downstairs and threw her dirty clothes in the washing machine. "What are you doing tomorrow?" She asked as she put her plate in the microwave to warm it up.

"I have a trial at eleven, and then a bail application at one. The trial for the bail app doesn't start until Thursday, and the first goes on until Wednesday. Why?"

"I'm just being nosy. I have two events tomorrow, but I'm off on Tuesday."

"I know. You told me when you left, remember?"

Valerie nodded and opted for a glass of wine, thinking it was well-deserved after they day she had. "I'm going to have some wine. You want some?"

"No thank you, I would like some water though."

She took the hint and gave him a glass of water as soon as she poured the wine, only to have to turn back around to grab her plate moments later. After deeming it warm enough, she joined Stephen at the dining table and immediately started to eat.

"If I had known you were going to eat like that, I would have made more," He said as she practically shoved the food down her throat, ignoring all formal manners.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast," She explained, immediately remembering her manners after she said so. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll eat normally."

Stephen nodded and, after a few minutes, said, "Your mother called earlier. She wants you to call her back to talk about her birthday next month."

Valerie simply nodded, making a mental note of it as she cleared her plate. "I'm going to bed," She said, standing to wash the dishes. "I assume you'll join me when you're finished."

"Yes. Sure," He waved her off as he took a few more notes.

'_He always gets so into his work…It's nice, but frustrating at times,' _She thought.

Once the dishes were done, she brushed her teeth and got into bed, only to have to get back up at five the next morning to be at a primary school by six-thirty for a teacher's breakfast. Afterwards, she got a small break that she used for a few errands before having to head up the road again for the anniversary party. She finally got back home at one in the morning and collapsed on the bed without bothering to change.

Stephen woke her up when his alarm went off and got her up long enough to get her changed and back to bed before he had to get ready to head off to chambers.

When Valerie finally woke up, it was almost noon and, while she was mad at herself for sleeping so late, she was grateful to have finally gotten some sleep. After going through her usual routine to wake up, she called her mum back and then headed out to do the grocery shopping, just as she had promised.

'_Even if I hadn't been able to get out right away, we still have frozen soups and sauces,' _She thought as she pulled into the supermarket's car park and headed off, coming back with the usual fifty pounds worth of groceries. The price was only so much due to what she bought, but the majority wasn't much since it was just her and Stephen in the house. And, after she got back, she spent a happy hour putting everything away before starting the laundry and settling herself in front of the telly to pass some time before dinner needed to be started. For dinner she decided on a simple meal of spaghetti that was done right before Stephen came home.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I was working at chambers and…"

"It's fine. You're just in time," Valerie said, getting out a plate for him.

"Give me a minute to change and I'll be right back down."

"Alright," She said back as she filled his plate. Then, she carried both plates to the table and set out two glasses of water. "I talked to my mother," She said as soon as he came back. "She just wanted me to make her a cake. She says my sister is taking her out this year."

"Which one?"

"Eleanor."

"I won't be here for dinner tomorrow. I have a con."

"At dinner time?"

"It's the only time the client is free. Besides, I know you have an event tomorrow."

"No. I'm at the restaurant. It'll be a nice change of pace," Valerie explained. Her work was a restaurant and catering service, and though she was permanently on the catering crew, her manager occasionally moved her into the restaurant when she was free and they needed extra help. "But I do have that big wedding on Friday in Bolton, remember?"

"Bolton?"

"The bride is from there and wants to get married in her hometown, but she heard about our service and was sold after only one meeting. I have to go up on Thursday and will stay until Saturday."

"I remember now. You told me this last month when your boss made the hotel reservation."

"Which I had to pay for half of. I'm sharing the room with Clara, who's temporarily been made head dessert chef. William got suspended for walking out Sunday's event."

Stephen nodded and they went on eating with breaks for occasional small talk. It had been while since they had eaten together and they both reveled in it, knowing how rare it was. He offered to help with the dishes afterward, and then they settled down to watch a film before heading to bed.

Moments after Valerie settled into bed, Stephen leaned over and whispered, "How tired are you?"

"Not at all, actually," She said, quickly rolling over to face him.

"Which is just fine with me," He said, pulling her in as close as he could as he eagerly pressed his lips to hers.

It didn't take long for her to respond as he rolled her over and quickly got on top of her. She then moaned against his lips as he kissed her again. It felt like forever since she'd been with him like this and she had to admit, she missed it. Missed the feeling of his deep kisses, the way his hands ran over her body, all of it. She quickly took her hands to his back, scraping him with her nails through his shirt and earning a groan in response as the fabric bunched up in her hands.

Moments later, he quickly broke the kiss and sat up to pull his shirt off, soon taking his hands to her pyjama top, kissing down her neck and he fumbled with the buttons, eagerly flipping them open as fast as he could.

Valerie moaned softly as Stephen's hands brushed over her newly exposed skin, gasping when the last button came undone and the top finally fell away from her.

As soon as he flicked open the last button, Stephen immediately came back up and captured her in a series of hard, deep kisses as she ran her hands along her chest, her fingers and nails running over any piece of bare skin she came across.

She relished in the groans she received in response as she swiftly and discreetly moved her hands down to his trousers, gasping when she felt him trough the fabric.

"Do you _know_ how long it's been?" Stephen asked at her gasp, ending with a kiss.

"Too long," Valerie replied, pulling him back down for another kiss, quickly moving her hands back down as their tongues met, dancing around each other. She fiddled with the waistband of his trousers before starting to slide them down.

Once he caught onto what she was doing, he moved his own hands down to help her, and, together they stripped him. As he came back up to kiss her, she stopped him and sat up a bit to slip her top off before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back down with her. He gave her a quick kiss and then moved down to her neck, creating a trail of hot kisses and soft love bites to her breasts as his hands ran up and down her sides, drawing small, precise patterns. He then brought one of his hands back up to caress and tease her left breast as he took his mouth to the right one. He took his time placing light, lingering kisses over the soft mound of flesh, carefully covering every inch. He relished in the small, sensual gasps he received in response, gasps that turned into moans once he finally took her nipple into his mouth, caressing and rolling it about with his tongue, teasing it to a taut peak before sucking on it.

Valerie threw her head back and let out a long, soft moan that turned into a squeal when he pinched her untouched nipple with his fingers. She took her own hands to his hair, running her fingers through it as he made a trail of soft kisses and love bites to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as the first.

He came back up to give her a light kiss, quickly breaking it off as she deepened it and moving toward her stomach, running his hands down to her pyjama bottoms and wasting no time in pulling them off as he kissed his way down her stomach. In no time at all, they were both naked, and he returned to her abdomen, again kissing his way down. He paused to slip his tongue into her navel, smiling at her moan as she shivered in delight. He then pulled back and grasped one of her legs. Starting with her ankle, he slowly kissed his way up her leg, moving as slowly as he could, wanting to both savour and tease her.

"Oh, _God_. Stephen," She gasped. It was both a cry of pleasure and a plea. She could take slow and sweet in small doses, but had a passion for the quick and the crazed-especially when they hadn't been together for awhile. "_Please_," She begged.

"Please what?" Stephen replied with a sly smile before turning his attention back to her body as he finally made his way up her inner thigh, earning several moans in response. "Where do you want me to kiss you? Here? Or, maybe, here?" He said, ending each statement with a higher kiss, knowing that she was more than ready for him. "Or, I could kiss you here, Ms. Cranitch."

Valerie gasped, arching under him once he took his tongue to her center, slowly running it over her and continuing on with slow, sensual strokes that sent a wave of fire through her body. Her hands went down to his hair, grasping it as her neck arched and she moaned his name breathlessly. She then let out a slight cry as he carefully and gently nipped at her most sensitive spot. Her moans increased as his pace did, and she thought to tell him something, _anything_, but all that would form was his name.

At that, he picked up the pace even more and eagerly, boldly slipped his fingers inside of her to give her something to tighten around.

After that, it didn't take long for her to snap. The deep heat that had been forming in her stomach finally gave way as the orgasm hit her hard and fast, taking over her whole being.

"I don't think so," Stephen muttered. Without waiting for the tremors to subside, he quickly came back up, linked his fingers with hers and thrust back into her, soon pulling her into a heavy, steady wave of pleasure.

She instinctively wrapped her legs around him, her nails digging into the back of his palms as she lost all sense of reality. Every small move he made drew her deeper into her growing vortex of pleasure. She met his every moment with equal power, eagerly giving into every kiss he put on her lips and smiling at his groan as she tightened herself around him.

Soon, everything blurred into a steady, heady heat and though she desperately wanted her release, she held out until she could hold no longer, practically screaming his name as it hit her with his following shortly afterwards. Then, they simply collapsed, waiting while their breathing evened out.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Stephen whispered as he picked up one of Valerie's hands and kissed the back.

"Of course," She replied, slowly forcing herself back up despite a considerable lack of strength and climbing on top of him. "I believe it's my turn now."

"Really?"

"Yes," She whispered huskily, gently biting his earlobe before moving down his neck…

The following morning, they were both up quite early with Stephen leaving first for a con. As soon as he was off, Valerie gathered her belongings and was nearly ready when the phone rang.

"Cranitch residence, Valerie speaking," She said.

"Hello, Mrs. Cranitch. This is Tammi from the pharmacy. I just wanted to know that you have two days left to pick up your prescription."

"Prescription?"

"Hold on," Tammi said, and Valerie heard rustling on the other end.

"Your birth control pills. You came and dropped off the slip last week, apparently."

Valerie paused as she tried to remember, and then her eyes went wide when she did. "Right. I'll be by later this evening then. Bye." She quickly hung up and sighed. _'Crap! I forgot all about that! I ran out last week and went to the doctor the first chance I got. I managed to hold Stephen off with my period for a week and then I ended up being so exhausted these past couple of days…I was lucky I could get upstairs, but…last night…__**Crap**__!' _She thought, her mind thrown into a bit of a panic. _'Are we even ready for a baby? Can we…? Wait a second. Stop it Valerie! This has happened once before and you were fine. What are the odds, anyway?' _She asked herself as she headed out.

For the next two months or so, she worked normally, being pulled from event to event. July was one of the worst for her. Every day she became increasingly tired, yet she kept going because of all the weddings that were booked, and then, two weeks into the month her mother caught some sort of stomach bug that she helped take care of.

"How's your mum?" Stephen asked one night as he sat reading in bed.

"She's better now. Deborah is mad at me for skipping two big lunches, but my mum's health is more important," Valerie replied as she pulled her nightgown on and then climbed into bed.

Stephen immediately set his book down and wrapped an arm around her. "And how are you? You've looked sick lately."

"I'm fine. I promise. Will you stop worrying?" Valerie asked as she switched off the bedside lamp and settled into his arms. She slipped into an easy, dreamless sleep that she suddenly woke up from at six in the morning. _'What is wrong with me?' _She asked, trying to fight the pain in her stomach, thinking it to be a simple cramp until she felt something in her throat. _'Oh, __**God**__,_' She thought, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth as she dashed into the bathroom, making it just in time.

Moments later, Stephen, who had been shaken by her sudden movement, appeared next to her. "Valerie, are you alright?" He asked.

"I have to throw up again," She replied weakly as she leaned over the toilet once more, grateful when he pulled her hair out of her face. She then sat back for a few minutes and then, feeling everything subside she slowly sank into his arms.

"Are you okay?" He repeated.

"Do I _look_ okay?!" Valerie snapped.

"You don't have a fever," Stephen concluded, pressing a hand to her head. "But you've been run down lately, and you just threw up _twice_. I think you're sick."

"It's summertime!"

"You probably caught it from your mum. All you need to do is rest awhile. Come on." He carefully helped her up and led her back to bed. "Go back to bed for awhile. I'll call in for you."

"But…Stephen…"

"I don't want to hear it. If you're sick, you're staying home. No arguments."

She simply sunk into the blankets, knowing it was no use to argue with him, even though she felt completely fine later and was up and doing chores by the time he came home. Unfortunately, the next morning and the six that followed, she still found herself in the bathroom, retching up whatever she had eaten the night before, meaning she had to stay home for a week-though she never got any better or worse.

'_What is wrong with me?!' _She thought on the tenth morning. Luckily, Stephen had left, leaving her alone for a bit. Once she came back into the bedroom, she glanced at the calendar and gasped when she did the math. _'It's been __**ten days**__ since I first got sick…Something is wrong. I need to go to the doctor. No one has the stomach flu for this long.' _Valerie then made her way downstairs, called out of work and quickly dialed the doctor's surgery. Luckily, they were able to fit her in and she found herself in the office by two o'clock.

"How are you, Mrs. Cranitch?" The doctor, Amanda, asked when she walked in.

"Fine…I think."

"You think?" Amanda said as she went through the usual vital check. "Your vitals are fine, so, what brings you here today?"

"Every morning for the past _ten_ days I've been throwing up. My mother just got over the stomach flu, so my husband and I assumed I caught it from her, but I know that no one can be sick for that long. Besides, it hasn't gotten any better _or_ worse."

"Anything else?"

"I've grown more tired lately."

"Anything emotional? Are you angrier? Craving things?" Amanda asked as she took notes, thinking that she knew _exactly_ where this was going.

"I've been a bit snappy at times, but I thought that just came with my occupation. And I've had a taste for apples…with peanut butter. Why is this important?"

"You said you were vomiting in the morning. Is it _only_ in the morning or…"

"Usually. Occasionally I'll get some nausea in the afternoon, but nothing becomes of it," Valerie explained.

"So, let me go through this. You've been sick in the mornings, are increasingly tired, and are having slight mood swings and cravings?"

"Yes."

"Mrs. Cranitch, when was the last time you had your period?"

At that, Valerie stopped and thought. "I…I don't remember. I got so caught up in my work I haven't been keeping track. But, if my calendar is right, I should get it sometime next week."

"I see…" Amanda made a note, as her suspicions were nearly confirmed. There was just one last step to truly knowing. "Would you be willing to submit to a blood test?"

"Blood test?"

"I think I know what it might be, but I want the test done to be sure."

"You can't tell me what you think?"

"No," Amanda shook her head, not wanting to throw her into panic with what she thought. She could tell that Valerie was worried enough and didn't want to add to it until she was one-hundred percent sure.

"Alright."

"Great. Stay here and I'll get the nurse."

Moments later she returned with a nurse who was quite quick about the test, which helped with the pain.

"We'll call you in a few days with the results. But, for now I can tell you that you're probably not contagiously sick, so you can go back to work."

"Thank you," Valerie nodded as she left. She had her suspicions of what it might be after Amanda went through her symptoms but pushed it out of her head, knowing it would just worry her. Instead, she went about her life like normal, nearly forgetting about it until she got a call late one afternoon.

"Cranitch residence, Valerie speaking," She answered.

"Mrs. Cranitch?" Amanda's voice said. "I have your test results, which confirm what I had suspected."

Valerie nearly dropped the phone when she continued on. _'I can't be! There's no way! How am I supposed to handle this? And, Stephen. How do I tell him?' _

"Mrs. Cranitch?" Amanda asked after a long silence.

"Sorry, I blanked. Thank you. I'll call back to make that appointment," She said, hanging up once Amanda did so.

"What was that about?" Stephen asked. He had walked in during the middle of the call and hung by the door until she hung up.

"I have something to tell you," Valerie admitted, figuring it was better to get it over sooner than later.

"What?"

"You might want to sit down for this one."

He could tell from the look on her face that she was serious and took a seat on the sofa.

Valerie took in a breath and said, "You know how I've been sick this past week?"

"Yes."

"A few days ago I went to the doctor to get it checked out. I told her my symptoms and she had me get a blood test done to find out what was wrong, but, it turns out there's nothing wrong," She said, rambling a bit at the end.

"Wait. Valerie, I'm confused. What are you saying?"

She took in another breath. "Stephen…I'm pregnant."

"_What_?! How? Why?"

"You _know_ how."

"And you know what I mean Valerie," He said, quickly standing and setting his hands on her shoulders. "I thought you were on the pill?"

"I _am_. It's just…Do you remember that night two months ago? That one day off I had after four days of nonstop work and coming home at midnight?"

"I think so."

"The week before that I had run out of birth control pills and was out of refills, so I went to the doctor right away for the exam. Afterwards I went straight to the pharmacy and forgot about it. I got caught up in my work and was able to hold you off for a bit because of my last period. But, that night I wasn't thinking about that or anything but _you_. The pharmacy called the next morning to remind me about it."

"How could you be so _stupid_?! We're not ready for a baby, Valerie!" Stephen snapped.

"I'm sorry!" She snapped back with tears in her eyes. "But we don't have a choice now! I thought it would be okay. I was once before."

"That was luck! I thought you were smarter than that!"

Saying nothing, Valerie simply burst into tears. She was a mix of stress, anger and fear, which, backed by her raging hormones, made for a hell of a combination. Stressed over work and Stephen yelling at her, angry at him for not being more supportive when it was partly his fault, and afraid of everything. She had no idea what it took to have a baby or raise a child, and the idea of labour scared her.

"Oh…Valerie…You…I…" Stephen stuttered, finally just sighing. He had no idea how to deal with women when they were crying.

"Why…Can't…You be…Supportive?!" She said, ending with a hiccup. "It's your…fault…too!"

"No one's at fault, Valerie. It just happened."

"Then…Why…Are you…So…So…" She sobbed, unable to finish.

"Come here," He urged, quickly pulling her with him to the sofa, where she laid her head in his lap and just cried. He gently rubbed her back, saying nothing as he let her cry her feelings out, as he wasn't sure what to say. He had no idea why she started crying in the first place!

"Better?" He asked when she finished, handing her a tissue that he pulled out of his the inside pocket on his blazer, as he had a habit of carrying them around and they came in handy more than once.

"A little. Can we talk about this without any yelling or accusations?"

"Alright," He said, moving a strand of hair out of her face.

"What are we going to _do_ Stephen? I…I don't know if we're ready for a baby."

"Well, we better get ready. Stuff happens and I know we're not the first couple to go through this. Besides, we've got a bit of time. How far along are you?"

"I'll be two months next week."

"Alright then, we've got time to prepare. We'll just take it in small steps."

"Well the first step is for me to go to a doctor and get examined now that they know. Then I have to tell my work."

"Can't you wait to tell your boss?"

Valerie shook her head. "I've heard that certain smells and foods can make pregnant women sick, and since I work in a restaurant setting, it's better for them to know sooner than later."

"Alright then. After that we'll handle everything else."

She looked up with a slight smile and then finally sat up, resting her head on his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around her waist. Though they were both unsure of what was happening, they knew they'd get through it, as they'd gotten over all of their obstacles so far.

The following morning, Valerie got up early and headed off to the restaurant, hoping to catch her boss before he headed off to meet with a client for a huge wedding they were catering at the end of the month. Luckily, both him and the assistant manger were in when she knocked on the door.

"Come in," He said, not looking up from the invoice he was reading.

"Mr. Jackson," Valerie said as she entered. "Mrs. Ziemann."

"What can we do for you, Valerie?" Mr. Jackson asked.

"I have something to tell you, sir," She replied.

"Take a seat then," He said, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

Valerie sat, waiting for a cue to continue.

"Go on," He said. "I don't have much time."

"I'm pregnant," She said, finding it easier to say now that she had told her husband.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Make arrangements for me here at work."

"You think you should be treated special just because you're having a baby?"

"No…I…"

Mrs. Ziemann stepped forward with a sigh. "You insensitive bastard," She said. "You have to make arrangements for maternity leave when she gets farther along and carefully look at the events she goes into. Plus, you have to watch when she's in the kitchen. Certain smells can make pregnant women sick, and we obviously don't want her getting sick in there." She then stepped forward and stood near Valerie. "For now, you work like normal with a few hours cut here and there. I'll get with the project managers so they know and can give you extra breaks if needed if you feel sick or exhausted. Come talk to me when you're about four months along and we'll see about putting you on light duty."

"Light duty?"

"You'll be washing dishes, bussing tables, setting up arrangements for events, those sorts of things. I don't want you to be overstressed. It's not good for yours or the baby's health. I'll get the necessary paperwork together for that and your maternity leave, which we'll also go over when you're farther along. Is that alright?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"No problem. I have two of my own, so I know how it can be trying to deal with being pregnant in this kind of work. Now, I have some desserts to look at. Where are you off to today?"

"A small garden party up the road."

"Go on then. Can you come back in on Monday? By then I should have all the paperwork together."

"Yes Ma'am," Valerie said before she left. She headed off in good spirits and was proud of the work she ended up doing at the party, as she had been left in charge of dessert arrangements again and had been complimented several times by her team in the clients, soon realizing that she liked being in charge and could handle herself well in those situations. _'Maybe it's time for me to move up?' _She thought as she headed home early that evening.

Stephen came in just as she was finishing dinner and greeted her with a kiss. "How are you doing today?" He asked.

"Fine?" She asked, confused by his nice tone.

"And my son?"

"Your son?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "Stephen I'm only two months along, how can you know that it's a boy?"

"It's just a feeling I have, Valerie. Besides, boys run in my family. My grandfather had four brothers, my mum had two and I'm my parents' only child and I'm a boy, of course."

"You're not a boy, you're a man," She reminded him as she flipped an omelet. "I was in the mood for night breakfast," She said, quickly changing the subject, surprised by how quickly he warmed up to the idea of having a baby, while she, on the other hand, was still unsure.

"I know what you're thinking," He said. "You want to know why I seem so ready for this. I took some time out to think and figured that we just need to take it day-by-day. It's over, it happened, we might as well enjoy it."

"Why the sudden change in attitude?" She asked, knowing in the back of her mind that it was because he was excited about the prospect of having a son to raise as his own.

"I told you, I just got to thinking," He said, gently laying a hand on her shoulder until she had to move to make and serve the plates. As soon as they sat down, he started going over some things he had looked at and finance plans regarding the baby.

"You had a lot of time on your hands, didn't you?" She asked.

"Nora helped a bit. She saw me looking through a baby book and asked me if I needed help. She has five kids at home."

"So, she knows what she's doing?"

"Yes."

"Good, because neither of us do and it's better to plan sooner than later. What's this here?" She asked, pointing to some other numbers.

They spent most of the evening and the better part of the week going over what he had looked up and flipping through books about childcare and expenses. Then, when she reached the three month mark, they finally decided to tell their respective parents, grateful for the help they gave. His mum being the most eager out of them all.

"I think I have enough clothes for at least three years," Valerie said a week after they'd told her, looking at the two new boxes Elaine had sent them. "How many clothes can you buy for a boy?"

"A lot, apparently," Stephen shrugged.

"It's not even close to my due date and she's already sent me three boxes of clothes. Make her _stop_. We haven't even picked out a name yet!"

"I've been thinking about that recently," He said. "Douglas loaned me the baby name book he and his wife used for their daughter." He handed it to her and she quickly flipped through it.

"Why don't we name it after you if it's a boy?"

"What do you mean 'if'?"

"It _could _be a girl, Stephen. It's far too early to tell with a sonogram, but…"

"We don't need one."

"_Stephen_…"

"I know I'm right. I told you, it's just a feeling I have."

"Fine, we _won't_ find out beforehand," She said with a roll of her eyes. "What about Brandon?" She asked, deciding to give up for now, as she was sick of listening to him.

Stephen shook his head. "I never liked that name and we're not naming him after me. I want something different. Can I see?"

Valerie quickly flipped a few pages and then handed it to him.

"I like Noah."

"I don't. I makes me think of the arc. We could name him after your father, Gregory."

"No family names. I told you, I want different."

"I've always liked the name Tyler."

"My last client was named Tyler. So, it's kind of creepy," Stephen said as he skimmed through the names until one caught his eye. It was plain, but he liked the way it sounded. "Nicholas."

"Nicholas?"

"It means 'victory of the people,' quite strong if you ask me."

'_Nicholas…' _Valerie thought turning the name over in her head. "Nicholas Cranitch…I like it. It flows nicely."

"But are you sold on it?"

Valerie nodded. "It's simple, but I like it. And it goes with our surname. So, yes, Nicholas it is," She agreed, not even daring to bring up girl names again. Instead, she took to secretly flipping through the book every few days while Stephen's enthusiasm slowly caught onto her. But, while her heart said "yes! This is my son. I'm going to have a cute little boy to hold!" Her head said, "Stop and think for a moment." Which she did occasionally through the following months as she, Stephen and just about everyone they knew, went out shopping for baby supplies. Soon, their house was filled with what seemed like endless amounts of clothes, nappies, and bottles, all various shades of blue and green and accompanied by pieces of dark, wooden furniture. Though she was still unsure of it due to not knowing the true gender of the baby, everyone's enthusiasm caught on and she slowly started to accept that it probably was a boy, especially when he started kicking. He was constantly moving, and kicked hard, old wives tale signs of a boy that she bought into, as her eldest sister, Myna, had had the same results with her son.

"He's active," Stephen said as they sat together on the sofa in the middle of her sixth month.

"Next time he kicks, push back," Valerie told him.

"Why?"

"You'll see," She said, then almost on cue, the baby kicked again.

Stephen did as he was told and pressed back, only to be met with another hard kick against his hand. "I take it back. He's _really_ active."

"Maybe he's just excited and wants to meet us."

"Well, he's stuck for another three months then," Stephen said. "Should we get back to the nursery?"

"Not now. I'm exhausted. Why did we start on this so late? We're not even halfway done."

"Because we needed to budget and save up for the furniture," He reminded her. "All of that stuff is expensive and we _still_ don't have a wardrobe for him."

"I'll be here on Monday. It's the same dark wood the cot and changing table are. My mum wants to buy the bassinet," Valerie said.

"Why does everyone think we can't handle this ourselves? It's like we're charity cases."

"They're just excited. Since she insisted I told her that she could pick out the bedding, but that we'll buy the bassinet itself. Is that alright?"

"Yes. When's your appointment tomorrow?"

"Two. It's my second ultrasound."

"I know. They just want to make sure he's developing normally."

As soon as he said it, she stopped and said, "Are you sure you don't want to confirm the gender? What if we're wrong and…"

"I don't think that's possible. Not with how he moves now."

"Are you _sure_? I'd like to believe you completely but…"

"I'm _**sure**_ Valerie," Stephen said, a hint of warning in his voice.

She immediately shut her mouth, knowing not to press on, as, it was a touchy subject for him. _'My heart has been telling me that it's boy this whole time. And, I believe mine and Stephen's instincts…But…Then what is this nagging in the back of my head? I'd feel better with a sonogram, but he's been so sure of himself this whole time…And I bought into it, because my heart says so…' _She thought, again stuck in her mode of thinking. She was excited for her son, but couldn't shake the nagging in her head telling her that something was wrong. She sighed and was immediately given a hard kick. _'Okay, I'll lay off for now…' _Smiling, she set a hand on her stomach and looked towards Stephen.  
"Let's go finish the nursery. And don't forget that we also have a tour of the hospital's maternity ward after the appointment."

Stephen nodded and followed her up the stairs. Unfortunately, they never quite got the room finished due to Valerie's tiredness and their conflicting schedules. They did, however, get most of the other preparations there, and Valerie couldn't help but be grateful for all of Stephen's help. He was surprisingly helpful and rather attentive, both for her and his son's health. He did his best to make sure necessary preparations were done on time, that she made every doctor's appointment up to the last week and that each appointment was recorded in her maternity notes. And, by the time her due date approached, they had half the nursery completed, figuring it wasn't too big a deal since the baby would be in his bassinet for at least three months, acquired enough clothes to last for his first year, and all the necessary furniture. Two weeks before she was due, they took the time out to prepare a bag for the hospital and go over the procedures laid out by her doctor and midwife for labour and delivery. By that time, they swore all of the fears had been pushed from their heads, but soon found out that was easier said than done, when, four days before her due date, Valerie woke from a deep sleep at one in the morning with a sharp pain in her back.

"_Stephen_!" She snapped, quickly kicking him.

He woke with a start and glared at her, prepared to snap until he saw the look on her face. _'Don't tell me…' _He thought.

"I…I…Think it…Might…Be…Time…" She said, stuttering a bit through the annoying pain.

Though he was all set to panic, Stephen sat back a moment and thought about what had been on the instruction sheet and came up blank. "I…I don't…"

"Call the midwife!" Valerie snapped, tears pricking in her eyes as a small wave of pain came over her.

"We just have to time your contractions to…"

"I don't…Even…Know what…The…Pains…Are! _CALL HER!_" She screamed.

Startled, he did as he was told and left, coming back with the phone which he handed to Valerie. After a steady half hour of conversation, she finally put the phone down and looked at him. "We have to go to the hospital. She…Wants to…Examine me."

"Alright, alright, let me just…"

"Not now. You were right about timing my contractions, she said to give it about an hour or two," Valerie said, still a bit shaken as she got up.

"Lie back down," Stephen ordered.

"No. It's better to walk around during early labour, remember?" She asked, referring to their reference sheet.

She spent two hours up and about before the contractions started coming sooner, and once they could be timed at three minutes apart, he ushered her into the car and they headed off on the midwife's orders. And, since all the necessary paperwork had been completed beforehand, Valerie was quickly taken to an exam room, where they met up with their midwife, Charlotte.

"First I'll need you to change into this," Charlotte said, handing Valerie a hospital gown. "It's necessary for the exam, but you can change afterwards if you want."

"No. It's fine," She said, knowing from her sisters that dignity meant nothing when you were giving birth, anyway. She changed as quickly as she could, not wanting to waste time, but as soon as she put the gown on, she felt something strange in the pit of her stomach, and leaned over, grabbing the examination table as a bit of water trickled down one of her legs. She started to relax a bit, but, as soon as she did, the small trickle turned into a flood.

"_Charlotte_!" She snapped, catching the woman's attention as she filled out an examination report and looked over the maternity notes.

Charlotte immediately jumped up and was at her side in no time. "Everything's fine. Your water broke. Just let it happen, it's not like this is abnormal around here."

Despite knowing the normality of it, Valerie couldn't help but be a bit embarrassed having someone see her in this state. But, she soon got over it, and was more than relieved when it stopped and the examination began.

Charlotte worked fast, asking necessary questions and recording answers in between carrying out pulse, blood pressure and temperature checks. But, though she was quick, it felt like hours to Valerie before she finally finished with the internal exam.

"You're about five centimeters dilated with your contractions three minutes apart. You'll be sent to a birthing room until the baby is born."

"And how long will that be?" Valerie snapped.

"I can't tell you exactly, because every woman is different. But if I have to give you a number, maybe four or five hours."

Valerie simply replied with a groan as a doctor and Stephen came in to assist her in moving down to a birthing room, where a few more tests were performed on her, though these were for her and Stephen's son.

"I called your parents," Stephen said as Charlotte looked at and recorded the baby's heartbeat.

"Why?"

"I thought they'd like to be here for…" He was cut off by his own groan as Valerie screamed and squeezed his hand as a contraction hit her. "…The birth of…their grandson." He continued when she finally stopped.

"And _your_ parents?"

"Are on holiday until the eighteenth."

Valerie simply nodded and sat back a moment, hardly believing that any of this was happening. All she could do was wish that it was over, but unfortunately found herself stuck. After an hour, her parents finally arrived and her mother, Diana, talked her through much of it, helping where Stephen couldn't, as he was completely lost when it came to medical matters. He did, however, do whatever she asked of him, whether it be fluffing her pillows, holding her hand, or giving her a massage once or twice. Unfortunately, he was thanked with a slap across the face once she hit the six hour mark.

"Make it _STOP_!" She screamed at him, Diana and the new midwife, Jane who had come in after Charlotte's shirt ended at eight-thirty.

"You're the one wanted it to be natural," Stephen pointed out, getting another slap across the face.

Eventually, he headed into the waiting room, as he knew he was just making it worse for her. And, a little over two hours later, her screams increased and then suddenly stopped as Diana came out to join him and Valerie's father, Edward.

"What's _happening_?!" Stephen asked, frightened by the silence.

"She's in the second stage of labour."

"What's _that_ mean?"

"It's time for her to push. You're going to be a dad in a little while, Stephen."

He gave a small smile, trying to hide the worry and fear that washed over him. Though he had prepared for it, the fact that he was going to be a father suddenly hit him and he started to worry if he was up to it, and if he was good enough. What if he completely messed up and his son ended up being some criminal? Overwhelmed, he simply sat, lost in those thoughts and others as he sat waiting.

Meanwhile, Valerie lay surrounded by a small team that consisted of two midwives and a doctor, all of whom were encouraging her to push.

Personally, Jane found it a bit strange that Valerie had sent everyone out of the room for the final stage, but, on the other hand, she didn't blame her, as the only truly helpful one was her mother. Her husband had been attentive, but seemed at a loss and she thought he would've just gotten in the way.

'_When…Is this…Going to be…__**OVER**__?!' _Valerie thought, pushing as hard as she could on the doctor's orders. Soon, all of her thoughts were lost as she concentrated on the task at hand, and, it wasn't long before she felt something slip out of her, and heard a loud cry. _'Thank __**GOD**__,' _She thought, suddenly realizing that her baby was _finally_ here.

"Is…That him?" She asked as the doctor examined the baby and Tara gently assisted with the last, managed third stage by pressing on Valerie's stomach to help the afterbirth. "Stephen wants to call him Nicholas."

Almost in sync, Jane, Tara and the doctor all exchanged the same, unsure, awkward look. And, after a small silence, Jane finally spoke.

"Um…Mrs. Cranitch? It's a girl."

'_What? How? Why? HUH?'_ Valerie thought, feeling a huge wave of sadness come over her. She and Stephen had spent so much time and money preparing for their son. The shopping, nursery setting…it was all wasted. Then there was the matter of Stephen himself. How would _he_ feel about this? He had wanted to meet his son so badly…

"Would you like to hold her?" Jane asked once Tara had finished with Valerie and the doctor had finished the first checks on her daughter.

Unable to speak, Valerie simply nodded and Jane transferred the little pink bundle into her arms. Once she glanced at her, Valerie nearly cried, all of her sadness immediately leaving her. She may not have been what was expected, but she was _perfect_. Once the baby opened her eyes, Valerie could see a set of beautiful, bright, blue orbs. She had heard a lot of babies were born with blue eyes that changed, but she knew her baby was different. These weren't just blue eyes. They were _his_ eyes. _'She has Stephen's eyes…' _She thought, then, she looked up. "Can you tell my husband? But…Don't tell him about her gender. I want to do it myself."

The doctor nodded and moved to assist in the post-birth examination before leaving the women and heading into the hallway. Once outside he looked at Stephen and asked, "Mr. Cranitch?"

Stephen looked up, an anxious look in his eyes.

"Your wife has been delivered and both mum and baby are perfectly healthy."

"Can I see them now?"

"Yes," The doctor nodded and led him into the room, while Valerie's parents sat back, waiting their turn.

Stephen almost couldn't believe this was happening. Finally, after months of waiting he was going to meet his son. It was a huge shred of happiness that made up for the bad week he had been having. He had a _long_ trial with a difficult client, plus two more coming up and all of it just stressed him, but, now he had no reason to be stressed. The baby was here and both him and his mother were perfectly fine. "Valerie?" He asked carefully as he stepped in. "Is…that Nicholas? What does…" He trailed off and suddenly stopped when he noticed the _pink_ blanket. _'Please tell me that's the only blanket they had left!_' He thought, hoping she wouldn't say what he was thinking. After all the preparation for a son, it couldn't be a girl!

Valerie looked up from the bundle with nervous eyes, and after a short silence she finally said, "Stephen…It's a girl."

Instantly, a wave of anger and disappointment washed over him. How could his intuition be wrong?! Was this God's revenge for him being stubborn? And, on top of that, all that money and time they spent preparing was now wasted. Every single pound. He had thought finally meeting his son would relieve him from the bad week he had been having, but finding out the opposite just angered him even more. He'd lost sleep over _this_? Finally, without a second thought or another word, he simply turned and walked out.

"_Stephen_! Wait!" Valerie called after him, her voice a hard sob. She loved her daughter and was more than pleased with the result. Sure, they'd have to return a lot of things, but what was important was that she was here and healthy, at least that's what _she_ thought.

"Stephen, what's…?" Diana asked as he stomped out. She tried to reach for him, but he pushed her hand away and kept going. She looked at Edward and they rushed in, finding Valerie clutching a little, pink bundle as she cried. "Oh, Valerie…" She quickly rushed over and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

"He _hates_ her," Valerie sobbed. "I know he wanted a boy, but…But…"

"I know," Diana soothed. "Ignore him for now, he just needs to get over himself. What's important now is you and the health of your baby."

Valerie nodded, though she couldn't stop the tears.

"What's her name?" Diana asked gently after allowing her daughter to cry for a bit, as she wanted to take her mind off of what had just happened.

"Stephen…Wanted to name the baby Nicholas. He was so sure it was a boy that he didn't pick out any girl names. I…I picked out…three. Just in case."

"Alright. Which one?"

"Well…She doesn't look like an Isabella _or_ a Catherine, and she has these bright…blue eyes. So…she must be a Niamh."

"Niamh?" Edward asked.

"It means 'bright.'"

Diana smiled and tested out the name, "Niamh Cranitch. I like it. It flows well."

"It…does…Doesn't it? My Niamh."

As soon as she said it, Niamh started to fuss.

"What's the matter?" Valerie cooed.

"She probably wants to eat," Jane said as she stepped back into the room, having left to be out of the way while the 'drama,' as she described it, was occurring.

"But I don't…"

"Can I help?" Diana asked. "I breastfed all of my girls."

"Of course," Jane said. Then, she and Diana carefully and gently helped Valerie through Niamh's first feeding, showing her how to hold her daughter and guide her through it.

"Keep her near you at all times now to encourage feeding," Jane ordered. "As soon as you're done with this, we'll move you upstairs to the maternity ward. You'll only be in hospital for twenty-four hours as long as you and your daughter are both fine. Have you named her yet?"

"Yes. Her name is Niamh. Niamh Cranitch," Valerie replied, trying not to cry as she said it. Her hormones were all over the place, and Stephen's attitude didn't help. She desperately wished that he was here with her to see his daughter and help her through all of this. She wanted the same support most other mothers got from their husbands. Tears pricked in her eyes as she thought about it and her mum gently rubbed her back, hoping to help with the pain.

"Niamh?"

"N-I-A-M-H," Valerie spelled, knowing from her tone that she was confused about the spelling.

"You're married to her father, correct?" Jane asked as she recorded Niamh's name on a clipboard that had her birth date, February 11, 1990, and time, eleven-thirty AM, already on it.

"Yes. His name is Stephen Cranitch," Valerie said, knowing she asked because, if they weren't married his name couldn't go on the birth certificate without his consent.

"And it's Stephen with a ph," Diana added.

Jane nodded and recorded that as well, intending to have the certificate drawn up as soon as she left the room.

Once Niamh finished, she was burped and put into her own little bed, where she settled down and went to sleep.

Though she tried to fight it, Valerie found herself falling asleep as well, as she had been up since one in the morning. As the clock struck noon, she gave up a slipped into sleep, waking up an hour later in a completely different room. She blinked a few times, wondering where she was and where her parents were, then, she turned from the wall she was facing and recoiled back at the sight of another woman rummaging through a bag.

The woman turned. "Oh, you're awake," She said. "I'm sorry I startled you. I'm your roommate, Samantha."

"Oh, I'm…"

"Valerie. I know."

"How…?"

"I'm a nurse and I got a bit nosy and took a glance at your medical chart. Being in hospital bores me."

"Oh," Valerie said, finally sitting up fully.

"You have a beautiful daughter," Samantha said.

"Thank you."

"What's her name?"

"Niamh," Valerie replied.

"That's pretty."

"What about your baby…Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy. His name is David."

"Oh," Valerie said, again feeling a wave of sadness wash over her. She was sure this woman's husband was pleased with her boy, and judging from the flowers in the room, she knew he hadn't walked away. She wouldn't trade her baby girl for anything, but still couldn't help but be disappointed with her, mainly because of Stephen's attitude. _'He wouldn't even look at her!' _She thought, turning away from Samantha as tears pricked in her eyes again.

Moments later, a nurse entered the room and picked up one of the two clipboards on the counter. "Ms. Cranitch?" She asked.

Valerie turned and looked at her.

"I'm Faith. I'll be your nurse for the duration of your stay," The nurse said as she flipped through the medical chart. "Everything seems to be in order and Jane said you fell asleep right away, so first thing I'm going to do is give you a shower. You brought clothes with you, correct?"

"Yes," Valerie nodded. "I just…Don't know where the bag went."

"By the window," Samantha said. "I'll watch Niamh for you while you get cleaned up."

"Thank you," Valerie said as Faith came over and gently helped her get up. She was surprised by how weak she was and gratefully accepted the help, even if she was a bit embarrassed about needing so much of it. Afterwards, she was dressed and given instructions on how to handle the cramps and bleeding that were to come and then put back to bed.

"Would you mind if I looked at the baby?" Faith asked as Valerie got settled into bed, finally feeling clean.

"Of course not, it's your job."

Faith gave her a small smile and made her way over to the small, wheeled cot that had been placed at the foot of Valerie's bed. Surprisingly, Niamh didn't wake at all during the examination. At times, it seemed like she was going to, but she eventually settled when she was put back down. "You're both doing just fine. I wouldn't be surprised if they discharged you tomorrow," Faith concluded. At that, she left and, moments later, Valerie and Samantha were interrupted by a knock.

"Knock, knock," A male voice said.

"Josh!" Samantha said, a huge smile on her face.

"Hey, Babe," He said, quickly entering and giving her a hug. "How's our new son?"

"He's perfectly fine."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner."

"It's _fine_, really," Samantha replied, gasping when he presented her with a bouquet of white roses. "Another bouquet for my collection," She joked, stopping when she glanced over to the other side of the room. "I'm sorry, I've been rude. Valerie, this is my husband, Josh. Josh, this is Valerie. She just had a baby girl."

"That means this little sweetheart is yours," He said, smiling towards Niamh's cot.

"Yes. Her name is Niamh," Valerie said before he could ask.

Josh simply smiled in response, and, noticing the lack of floral arrangements on her side, he went back to Samantha, plucked two roses out of the bouquet he had just given her and presented them to Valerie. "One for you and one for Niamh," He said.

"Thank you," Valerie replied, smiling for the first time since Niamh had been born. _'He doesn't know how much this is appreciated…' _She thought, again feeling a pang in her heart when she realized her husband wouldn't be giving her flowers anytime soon. Overcome with emotion she set both roses on the table at her bedside and said, "I'm kind of…tired, so…"

"We'll try and keep it down," Samantha promised.

Valerie said nothing more and turned away from them, quickly snuggling into the blankets. After a moment or two of listening to Samantha and Josh's quiet chatter and their cooing over their son, she began to cry again. It was a mix of guilt and sadness. Guilt over her internal wishing that Niamh was a boy, even though she was happy for her girl, and sadness over just about everything else. She _wished_ she had the support her roommate did. Of course, she had her parents, but that was completely different from what she wanted. She felt as if she and Niamh had been rejected by Stephen because of this. The happy chatter over the _boy_ on the other side of the room didn't help any as she eventually cried herself to sleep, only to be woken up a half hour later at the sound of a cry.

"It's Niamh," Samantha said as Valerie sat up.

In an instant, she was alert and up by Niamh's side. "Oh, what's the matter with Niamh?" She asked, carefully rocking her daughter as she tried to figure out her cries, soon finding through her feeling of the blanket that she needed a change. She quickly shifted her so that she could be held with one arm and, with Samantha's help, gathered all the necessary materials. She decided to change her on the bed and laid her on the towel that had been set there as she washed her hands. She fumbled through the majority of it, but eventually got the hang of it with a bit of help, and in no time, Niamh was changed, though, she still cried.

"She's _still _crying!" Valerie whined, her emotions getting to her.

"It's alright, she's probably just hungry."

"Oh…Right…" Valerie muttered, quickly picking her daughter back up, only to have her start mouthing her breast.

Samantha helped her undo the buttons on her pyjama top and smiled when Niamh quickly latched onto her mother and started to suckle.

With a sigh, Valerie sat on the bed staring at Niamh, still hardly believing she was a mum and noticing for the first time the little hospital bracelet on Niamh's wrist that had her name on it, meaning that it had been officially recorded.

"Is she your first?" Samantha asked.

"How did you know?"

"A lot of new mums fumble around with their first child. I know I did for awhile."

"What?"

"David's my second. I have another son at home."

"Oh…"

"You're lucky. I really wanted a girl and was beyond upset when I found out I was having another boy. But, there's always next time."

"Next time?"

"Josh and I are both from big families and want one ourselves. Our boys are just the start. Anyway, it might take you a bit to catch onto her cues, but once you do, taking care of her will get easier."

As soon as she finished speaking there was another knock, "Valerie?" Edward's voice said.

"No, she's…." Samantha started.

"It's alright. He's my father," Valerie said, motioning him in.

"Oh, I didn't realize you were…"

"It's fine, Daddy. If I'm going to breastfeed her, you'll have to get used to it anyway. Where's Mum?"

"She's out doing some more errands. I brought you some things," He said, setting a gift bag on the bed.

"Help?" Valerie asked Samantha, who nodded and opened the bag for her.

"Baby clothes," She informed her.

"Your mum and I know you only have boy's clothes, so we went out and bought a few things so that our granddaughter would have something to wear until you could get to shopping."

"But, you and Mum gave me plenty of gender neutral items."

"We couldn't find them in the nursery."

"Oh…They're in the spare clothes box with Myna's stuff."

Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Since I told her we didn't truly know, she sent me a box that's half girl clothes and half boy clothes and told me to send what I didn't need back so she could exchange it. Stephen took the girl stuff and half the stuff you sent and put in the back of what's now_ her_ wardrobe," Valerie explained, then, she turned her attention back to Niamh. "Would you like some new clothes?" She cooed, eyeing the t-shirt and cap the hospital had put on her. "Of course you would. This can't be comfortable."

As soon as Niamh finished eating, Valerie burped her and rifled through the clothes to choose an outfit.

Though she fussed through it a bit, Niamh was eventually put into a set of light-pink, footie pyjamas and wrapped up in a new, lavender blanket.

"There, isn't that better?" Valerie cooed.

"She really is adorable," Samantha said.

"She's beautiful, Sweetheart," Edward told his daughter. "She looks like you."

"A little…I think she looks more like Stephen. She has his eyes."

Noticing the sadness in her eyes, Edward set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. He'll come around in time," He assured.

"I hope so…" Valerie muttered. She was completely in love with Niamh from the beginning and wanted Stephen to be the same. Even if she wasn't his desired son, she was still his child and needed her papa's love and care. "Would you like to hold her?" She asked her father.

"Of course," He said, waiting while Valerie gently set his new granddaughter in his arms. "Hello, Niamh," He said, never being one for baby talk. "I'm your granddad, well, one of them."

Niamh simply stared up at him with curious eyes. She was fascinated by everything she saw, especially the people and curious about this older man staring down at her.

"She really is cute. Reminds me a bit of Jacob when he was born, minus the dark gaze," He said, referring to Eleanor's eldest son, who was now three.

"That's because they're both blondes. His hair is starting to get a dark tint though. I don't think hers will. She has my hair."

"Yours got a bit darker. You were a platinum blonde up until you were three," Edward reminded her as he gently rocked Niamh, who was settling into a comfortable sleep in his arms. "May I?" He asked.

Valerie nodded and watched at he got up and carefully set Niamh in her cot. After that, he stayed around for a bit, striking up conversation with both his daughter and Samantha as she cared for her own baby and nurses popped in and out until they were given dinner. After dinner, Valerie changed and fed Niamh again, and then went to sleep for the night, getting up every two hours or so to feed and cuddle her daughter. The following morning there were several tests to assess her and Niamh's health, and, once they were both cleared, they were discharged. At first, Valerie worried about how she was going to get home, but, luckily, her parents arrived just in time. Despite her protest she was escorted out in a wheelchair with a doctor following to assure that there was a proper car seat for Niamh to travel home in. Luckily, it wasn't raining for once, so they didn't have to worry about umbrellas and the baby getting wet.

Valerie gasped when she saw that her parents had gone out and bought a rear facing, pink car seat and had secured it in their car.

"We went ahead and exchanged the old one. It hadn't been opened, so the shop was willing to take it back," Diana explained.

Valerie nodded, remembering that they had picked out and gotten a boy's car seat, but they agreed not to open it until after the baby had been born, when they really needed it.

After a quick check, the doctor deemed it safe and let them go. Diana helped Valerie properly strap Niamh in before they headed off.

Niamh was taken in by her surroundings and stayed awake the whole ride, staring around the car and at all of the sights that passed by.

"What are you looking at?" Valerie asked once she glanced over and noticed her daughter's wandering eyes.

"Everything," Diana replied. "She's just curious about her surroundings."

"Is…Is Stephen home?" Valerie asked, glancing at her hands.

"No. He has a trial and was just heading out the door when we showed up for the car seat," Diana said.

"Did he…Say anything?"

"Nothing. Not a sound."

"Oh."

Both her parents gave a sympathetic smile and they drove on in silence, soon pulling up in front of the house.

"Welcome home, Niamh," Valerie said cheerfully as she gently lifted her daughter from the car seat.

"We'll move that into your car later," Edward said as he grabbed Valerie's bag out of the boot.

She just nodded and shifted Niamh in her arms, checking her to make sure the blanket was completely around her and that she was warm.

Once they entered the house, Valerie felt a slight pang of guilt looking around at all of the blue and green boy toys, then she glanced at Niamh again and forgot about it. She would take care of it and make sure everything was girlified for her. _'I'm just grateful you're not old enough to know anything about this.' _She thought as her mother set a hand on her shoulder.

"We have a surprise for you," She said. "Close your eyes."

"Mum I…"

"Your father will take Niamh."

Edward stepped forward and Valerie reluctantly handed her daughter over.

"Okay, come with me," Diana said, putting her hands over Valerie's eyes. "We're going upstairs," She warned as they approached the stairs. Surprisingly, Valerie made it up without missing a step as she let her mother guide her. Soon, they came to a stop. "Open your eyes," She ordered, removing her hands.

As soon as she opened her eyes, Valerie gasped. In her and Stephen's bedroom was the bassinet they had bought, but instead of blue bedding and ribbons it now had _pink_ bedding.

"Oh, Mum…" She said. "I _love _it! Thank you!" She threw her arms around her mother and sighed, thinking that they were doing too much, but that she appreciated it. It took a huge weight off of her shoulders, knowing that she didn't have to rush out to the shop right away.

They broke the hug at the sound of Niamh's cry, and, in an instant, Valerie was down the stairs next to her father. She carefully took her daughter from him and rocked her, listening carefully to her cries. "It's been three hours. She's hungry again."

"She doesn't seem to cry much," Diana observed as Valerie moved to the recliner in the lounge and quickly unbuttoned her blouse.

"I noticed that while we were in hospital. She only cries when she's hungry, tired or needs to be changed. Never once did she cry for any other reason," Valerie replied as she quieted Niamh and got her onto her left breast. After twenty minutes, she burped Niamh and moved her to the other breast, saying, "Why didn't you bring her to me _before_ she started crying? Crying is a _late_ sign of hunger, you know."

"I wasn't sure what she was doing, I thought she was just whimpering for attention, and when she started to move, I thought she was just shifting to look at things again."

"He doesn't have our intuition," Diana said, moving to join Edward on the couch. "Besides, it's been awhile since he's been around any babies."

"My girls are all grown. I'm done," He said. "My job is simply to spoil the grandchildren now."

"Oh, Daddy," Valerie sighed, gasping when she suddenly saw a flash. "_Mum_!" She snapped.

"We hardly took any pictures at the hospital Valerie, we should at least have some of our only granddaughter's day home."

"You don't know that. Eleanor is trying for another," She informed them.

"Fine, our _first_ granddaughter's day home."

"Can you wait until my chest isn't out?"

"No," Diana said, quickly snapping another photo.

Niamh ignored what was going on around her. The flash wasn't a bother, and she was too focused on eating to care anyway. When she felt full, she stopped and Valerie burped her after placing a burping cloth on her shoulder.

"Come sit with your father, Dear. I want a picture of him holding Niamh," Diana insisted.

Valerie sighed, knowing arguing was useless. She ended up spending the majority of the afternoon having a flash in her face as she let her parents take various pictures-minus the times when she changed or fed Niamh. After an hour or so of this, Niamh began to fuss a bit and was put down for a nap. She was up again a few hours later and was brought in to join her granddad in the lounge while he sat with Valerie as Diana made dinner, knowing her daughter needed a bit of a break. She made and put lasagna in the oven and soon joined them. Moments after she sat down, Stephen arrived home, stressed from another day of this difficult trial. The prosecutor was tearing him to shreds, and the defense was on its last leg. If he didn't find some sort of loophole, the whole case would be wasted. And, on top of that, he had _two_ trials to attend the following day. He had intended to come home and simply relax, but was thrown for a loop when he found Valerie and her parents on the couch watching a film.

"Diana, Edward, nice to see you again," He said, immediately remembering his manners.

"We're just here for Valerie. I made dinner tonight," Diana said.

"Hi Valerie," He said, turning towards the stairs.

"Aren't you going to say "hi" to Niamh?" She blurted out without thinking. She was sick of being quiet and wallowing in sadness. She _would_ make him acknowledge his daughter.

Stephen stopped for a moment. "Niamh? Who's Niamh?" He asked.

"Your _daughter_," Valerie said, her voice slowly turning into a sob as she remembered that he wasn't there for her naming.

He said nothing and headed up the stairs.

As soon as he left, Valerie burst into tears. It wasn't fair! Why should she have to do all the work simply because Niamh was a girl? Why did she and her parents have to be the only ones who cared about her daughter?

"Valerie," Diana sighed, quickly taking Niamh from her.

Once her arms were free, Valerie turned and buried her head in her father's shoulder.

Edward said nothing and just let her cry, knowing that it was simply her hormones affecting her emotions.

Meanwhile, Stephen stepped into the bedroom and quickly opened the wardrobe. As he untied his tie, he glanced over by the bed and scowled at the _pink_ bassinet sitting next to it. The bassinet that used to be _blue_ and was specially chosen for his _son_. _'Of course it's pink now…I'm afraid to see what the nursery looks like…' _He thought.

Over the next two days, he and Valerie fell into an uncomfortable routine. She stayed home to take care of Niamh and was up several times in the night to do so, meaning she slept in the morning and didn't wake up until he was gone. They didn't speak much and there was a clear tension in the air that even Niamh picked up on. Though she was generally a quiet baby, she started whining more when both her parents were present, as she sensed something was wrong. Valerie tried to keep her mind off of things by going out shopping for new things for Niamh. By the fourteenth she had successfully returned and/or exchanged over half the clothes, sent Myna the boy clothes back and even exchanged a few toys and the baby book she had bought. Stephen kept his mind on his work, a bit embarrassed over what had happened. He had spent a lot of time bragging about his new son, but ended up with a daughter instead. He refused to tell anyone in chambers and just let them wonder about it as he focused on his new case, as, the other did end up falling through. He stayed late to work out the details of this one and didn't end up coming home until ten o'clock. It was dark when he entered the house, indicating that Valerie had gone to bed. In the kitchen he found a note saying she'd left him dinner.

'_Even when she's mad at me, she still makes me dinner…I love her,' _He thought, smiling at the note and then heading upstairs. He sighed as he started to undress, assisted by the nightlight that had been put in the room so that Valerie could care for Niamh more easily. As he pulled off his tie, he paused and glanced at the bassinet. Something in him stirred and he carefully walked over and set his hand on the edge of it, glancing at his peacefully sleeping daughter wrapped in a white blanket.

'_I have a daughter…' _He thought, suddenly overcome with emotion and the realization that he was a father. _'A beautiful daughter…Who I've been neglecting…' _Without a second thought, he carefully lifted her up, surprised when she didn't wake. "Hi Niamh. I'm your Papa…" He whispered. _'And I've been unfair to you. I shouldn't be mad at you or Valerie. You're just a baby…A baby who needs Papa's love and care. I've been such a jerk. Being mad because she's a girl…It wasn't fair of me to automatically assume she was a boy without true proof in the first place. What's important is that she's here and healthy. And I'm going to make sure she has everything she needs from now on…' _He thought, feeling horribly guilty over everything that had occurred over the past couple days. It wasn't fair of him to let his stress and anger take him over or to take it out on his wife and new daughter. He was only so angry because of the bad week. Niamh's being a girl had just topped it off. It felt like his whole world had crashed down, simply because he felt it was all ruined without a son. "I love you," He whispered, giving her a light kiss on the head before gently placing her back in the bassinet. He then quickly changed and went downstairs to eat and concentrate on some work before heading to bed. For the first time in days, he wrapped his arms around Valerie and gave her a kiss before falling asleep, as he wanted her to know he loved her and was starting to get over himself.

However, they didn't stay in that position. Every few hours she was up to check on and feed Niamh, but when she actually got up the next morning she found the bassinet empty. "Niamh?" She said, her instinct making her look around the room. "_Niamh_?!" She called. _'Oh, God…I __**lost **__the baby! I lost my girl!'_ She thought, quickly running out of the room. "Niamh? Niamh! Where are you?"

"What's the matter, Valerie?" Stephen asked, emerging from the kitchen with Niamh snuggled in his arms.

"Niamh!" She said. "I thought I lost you. I…_Stephen_!"

"What?"

"You're _holding_ her!"

"Of course I am. She _is_ my daughter."

"But…But…You…"  
"Listen, Valerie. I'm sorry. I haven't been myself lately and it affected everything. I should have never acted the way I did just because I wanted a boy. Regardless of gender, Niamh is still my child and needs the same love and care as any son."

Valerie smiled, trying to fight off the happy tears brimming in her eyes. "Has she eaten?"

Stephen nodded. "I used the milk in the fridge. It was labeled with her name."

Valerie raised an eyebrow, confused until she remembered that when it came in, she had pumped some of her milk and left it so that her father could feed Niamh while she and her mum went out shopping, as she wasn't comfortable taking her out unless it was necessary.

"Do you like the outfit I picked out for her?" He asked, moving the blanket so that Valerie could see. Niamh wore a small, short-sleeved shirt with a butterfly on it and a pink ruffle at the sleeves and bottom with a matching pink skirt.

"It's too cold for her to wear a skirt," Valerie frowned.

"It looked better than the trousers and I thought it didn't matter since she spends most of her time wrapped in blankets. Besides, it's perfectly warm in the house."

"She's not wearing any socks."

"She just whined when I put them on, so I took them off and wrapped her in the blanket. She was happier after that."

Valerie smiled and moved to touch Niamh, surprised when her daughter grabbed her finger. She laughed as she thought, _'I'm glad he's starting to come around…It's only been a few days and she's already turning into Daddy's girl. He's already worrying about her clothes and picking up on what she doesn't like…' _

"My mother called yesterday. She and my father will be back on Sunday, as planned and she's excited to meet her grandchild."

"Did you tell her Niamh is a girl?"

"No. Being honest, I was still too embarrassed after all the bragging I did."

"Don't tell her. I want it to be a surprise."

"But how am I supposed to deal with her calling my daughter a boy?"

"Just play along with it, but never give her a gender. She's just "the baby" or "your grandchild," okay?"

"When are we going to visit her?"

"Can we wait a few weeks? I want to wait until Niamh is a bit bigger and can deal with the weather better."

"Alright. I'll call her when they get back and arrange a date."

"Thank you," Valerie said with a relieved sigh.

"So, how much of the stuff have you taken care of?"

"My mum and I got half the clothes returned or exchanged, and they took care of the bassinet and car seat. Why?"

"I got a call ten minutes ago. The trial has been delayed a day because of an issue with a witness. So, I'm free."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I want to go shopping with you. Your mum has already agreed to watch Niamh for a few hours since you're not ready to take her out yet."

"I love you," Valerie said, quickly throwing her arms around him.

"Watch the baby," He warned.

"Oh, right. Sorry, Niamh."

Niamh looked back and forth between her parents. She had no idea what was going on, but could sense that they were happy, which made her happy. Since she couldn't smile yet, she just kicked a foot to express her happiness, making her parents laugh.

They were a bit sad to have to leave her a few hours later, but they knew it was better to get to shopping sooner than later. They took all of the remaining boy clothes and were able to return and exchange most of them, donating what the shops wouldn't take back. Two places gave them store credit instead of their money back that they used to replace the clothes and toys. They also exchanged the cot bumpers and bedding, changing table supplies and the carrier.

"What about a high chair?" Valerie asked as Stephen contemplated dresses.

"We can worry about that later. We'll be lucky to have anything left after this," He said, finally setting aside a dark purple dress with a rose on the sash.

"We have plenty. We budgeted well and aren't using anything extra since most of this has been exchanges."

Stephen simply nodded and they moved on, deciding to wait until Niamh was a bit older before buying the high chair. They then spent the next few weeks re-decorating the nursery and setting up the new toys and furniture while taking care of Niamh, who was turning out to be quite an easy baby. She hardly fussed, slept and ate well, and was quite active, never sitting still when she was awake, as, she wanted to look at everything. Her parents' only complaint was her socks, as, she never kept them on and often lost them.

"What are we going to do with you?" Stephen whispered as he dressed her for bed one night, easily pulling her little nightgown on. He then tried to get her to wear socks per Valerie's request, but she wouldn't sit still, so he gave up and wrapped her in her blanket.

"Did you get them on?" Valerie asked, stepping in as he gently laid her down in the bassinet.

"No. She wouldn't sit still."

"Oh, Niamh," Valerie sighed, stepping to stand next to Stephen as they watched their daughter sleep for a bit.

"She's almost like an angel when she sleeps, isn't she?" Stephen said.

"She _is_," Valerie agreed, pausing for a moment as she ran the statement over in her mind. "I like it," She thought aloud.

"What?"

"Niamh being an angel. Our Angel," She said, deciding that from that point forward that Niamh was _her_ Angel and even took to calling her that, because as soon as she said it, it stuck.

Finally, once Niamh was a little over three weeks old, Stephen arranged for them to go visit his mother so that she could _finally_ meet her only grandchild. He had been careful never to give Niamh a defined gender when they talked, respecting Valerie's wishes to keep it a surprise. They ended up going on the tenth of March, the Saturday before Niamh was to turn four weeks old. Since it was still cold, for the trip they dressed her in a footed, pink, fleece sleeper, and wrapped her in what was becoming her favourite blanket. It was a light-pink, microfiber blanket with a dark-pink border and had "Daddy's Girl" printed on one end of it in light-green, pink and brown alternating lettering with a butterfly on one end of the words and a blossoming flower printed at the other end.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" Stephen asked as they headed up the steps, Valerie carrying Niamh in a baby carrier printed with pink flowers.

"Yes," Valerie lied, not wanting to say that she was only doing it to spite Elaine, who clearly disliked her.

Stephen said nothing more and simply knocked.

Moments later, they were greeted by his mother, who wore a simple trousers and sweater ensemble. "Stephen," She said, greeting him with a hug. "It's about time you showed up! Where's my grandson?"

"Here," Valerie said.

Elaine looked down, finally noticing the carrier Valerie held. "But…That carrier's _pink_." She pointed out.

"There a reason for that," Valerie replied as Elaine motioned them inside. She made her way into the kitchen and set Niamh's carrier on the counter while Stephen led his mother over to the sofa, setting down a pink and brown diaper bag along the way. "Come on, Niamh," Valerie said as she gently lifted her dozing daughter from the carrier.

Feeling the movement, Niamh gave a small whine and began to fuss a bit, unhappy about having her sleep disturbed.

"Oh, hush. We'll have none of that, Angel," Valerie cooed as she took Niamh into her arms.

After a moment or two, she settled down, finding comfort in her mother's arms. Valerie then made her way into the living room, taking a bit of pride in watching Elaine's eyes go wide at the little pink bundle she held.

"Mum," Stephen said. "This is your grand_daughter_, Niamh Cranitch."

"Grand…Daughter?"

"Yes."

"No. You said I would have a grand_son_."

"I was wrong," Stephen admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me after she was born then?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Valerie said. "Would you like to hold her?" Though she didn't particularly care for Elaine, Valerie wasn't going to deny her the chance of holding her grandchild.

"Well…I…Uh…" Elaine stuttered, cut off when Valerie presented her the girl, whom she reluctantly took into her arms.

Niamh simply stared at her, completely confused about this stranger. She was just starting to recognize mum and papa by their hair colours and voices, but this woman was _different_.

Elaine stared back, still stunned at the new revelation. She wasn't sure she knew how to handle a girl, and, on top of that, now all of the money she had spent on toys and clothes was wasted. As she got lost in her thoughts, Niamh started to fuss a bit. Then, she started coughing and a sound was heard before she spit up the remnants of her last feeding on Elaine's sweater.

Immediately, Valerie laughed at both the situation and the disgusted look on Elaine's face, stopping when Stephen elbowed her. Then, she got a burping cloth from the diaper bag and carefully took Niamh back, putting her over her shoulder to see if she needed to burp anymore.

"I'm sorry," She said, "She was just fed an hour ago."

"It's quite…alright," Elaine lied, staring disgustedly at the spot on her sweater and trying her hardest not to make a fuss over it, "I'll just go change."

As soon as she got up, Niamh finally burped over Valerie's shoulder.

"Good girl," Valerie said. "Are you done, now?" She shifted Niamh to cradle her, smiling at her smile. She then gave her a kiss on the head and joined Stephen on the couch.

"Where's Dad?" Stephen asked once Elaine stepped back into the room.

"I sent him out to the supermarket to pick up a few things. He should be back any minute now," She replied.

"What's that?" Valerie said, looking towards the small pile of gifts in the corner.

'_Wasted money,'_ Elaine thought, though she didn't dare say it aloud. "They _were_ gifts for my grandson. I have to take them all back now."

"Not necessarily," Stephen said, moving to rummage through them. "There are some gender neutral things here," He said, unearthing a few white and black onesies, and some cute bibs with gender-neutral sayings.

"I like that one," Valerie said, looking at the one in Stephen's hands that read "Messy just like Daddy!"

'_Of course you do,' _Stephen thought, setting it with the clothes they were keeping to amuse her. "How about this?" He held up a white shirt with blue lettering that said, "If you think I'm cute, you should see my daddy."

"It's cute. I think Myna sent me a blue skirt that'll match the colour of the letters."

Elaine simply sat back as they went through and sorted the gifts, secretly thinking it ridiculous. _'This woman is crazy. Keeping boy clothes for a girl! Why can't she see that it's all wasted pounds? I spent it all that money just to have her cheat me out of a grandson! And I know she didn't tell me just to be spiteful. I don't know what Stephen sees in her…' _She thought with a frown.

After a few minutes and a bit more rummaging, Stephen and Valerie stopped, finding the rest of the clothes, blankets and toys too gender specific to keep.

'_At least we got something out of all of that,' _Valerie thought, turning her attention back to Niamh just as Stephen's father, Gregory came in the door with a few grocery bags.

"I'm sorry I'm late," He said.

"It's fine," Valerie said. "Elaine told us you just went on an errand."

"I was told to get some things for dinner," He said as Elaine stood and took the bags from him. "Now, where's my grandson?"

"Actually, Dad…"

"It's a _girl_," Elaine snapped.

Greg raised an eyebrow and Valerie glared at Elaine, wondering why she was being so mean about it. She then sighed and stood to present Niamh to her other grandfather.

"Would you like to hold her?" She asked.

Greg nodded and carefully took his granddaughter into his arms.

"Her name is Niamh," Stephen informed him.

As soon as she settled into his arms, Greg looked at her and immediately fell in love. "She's beautiful," He said, looking into her eyes, which she shared with him.

Seeing his smile, Niamh smiled back at him and reached a hand up, grasping his finger when he presented it to her.

"Hello, Niamh," He said. "What is she going to call your father?" He asked Valerie.

"Probably Granddad. That's what he keeps referring to himself as."

"Then you can call me Grandpa," He said, turning his attention back to Niamh. "She's a good mix of the two of you. Yes, you'll grow up to be a great beauty," He told Niamh.

"How can you be so sure?" Valerie asked.

"Look at her mother," Stephen said.

"Stop it," She said with a heavy blush in her cheeks.

Greg smiled and then glanced at the gifts, looking from them to Niamh. "I guess we have to get you some new clothes, now." He said.

"You don't have to. She has plenty at home," Stephen said.

"I want to," He insisted. "Besides, someone always told me that a girl can never have enough clothes." He glanced toward Elaine, who simply rolled her eyes. She was done with her granddaughter for now.

'_I am beyond tempted to ask why she's such a bitch!'_ Valerie thought, not understanding what was so wrong with her having a granddaughter. She actually secretly thought Niamh was better than any son, as she enjoyed dressing her up and messing with what little accessories she could. Of course, she would have gladly welcomed her even if she had been a boy, but couldn't help but be a little pleased with how it turned out. She then turned and smiled at Greg as he tickled and played with Niamh, relishing in her little smiles as she tried to learn who he was.

"She loves you," Valerie said.

"I would hope so. She _is_ my granddaughter," He replied with a smile. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Of course," Stephen replied.

"What about you Niamh? Are you staying?" Greg joked, laughing at Niamh's smile.

"Of course she's staying, she can't go anywhere else," Valerie replied, standing to take her daughter back. "Do you want to see how we play with her?"

"Of course."

Valerie smiled, quickly pulled a floor blanket from the diaper bag and carefully laid Niamh on her stomach.

"That's not good for her," Elaine said as she came back in.

"It's fine, Mum," Stephen said. "The pediatrician said we should be playing with her like this to help strengthen her back and neck muscles so she can get better at holding her head up. She just has to be well supervised."

"Are you sure? And when was the last time she slept? She looks tired."

"She took a nap on the way here," Valerie said as she handed Greg a heart-shaped, lavender rattle. "If she wanted to sleep, she would. That's how babies work."

Stephen and Greg exchanged a look while Greg shook the rattle for Niamh, watching as she looked for the source of the noise and then focused on it, following it with her eyes as her grandfather moved it and ignoring the arguing women behind her.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me how to raise my daughter!" Valerie snapped. "You didn't want her in the first place!"

"It's not my fault you cheated me out of my grandson!" Elaine snapped back.

"I did _WHAT_?! In case you didn't know, it's the _man_ who picks the gender, Madam. So, why don't you go yell at your son instead?!"

"He's already in trouble for not telling my about this. Unless it was your idea?"

"Why do you care? Why can't you just accept what it is and love your granddaughter?"

"I _do _love her," Elaine retorted, offended that Valerie would say such a thing.

"Then stop being mean and _play_ with her! Show her how much you love her! Don't give her up after five minutes because she spits up! She's a baby! They do that!" Valerie snapped.

"Should we do something?" Stephen asked Greg.

"Let them fight it out. It's never good to get between two women. Now, when they start killing each other, we'll intervene."

Valerie and Elaine went on for another few minutes until Niamh started to whine, frustrated with her position.

"See, I told you that wasn't good for her," Elaine said in a matter-of-faculty tone.

"She's just frustrated, Mum," Stephen said with a sigh as he rolled Niamh onto her back. "All that whine means is that she's tired of being on her stomach and wants to lie on her back."

Elaine simply sighed and moved into the kitchen to make dinner, already sick of Valerie being around. _'What does she know about anything? She'll never be a __**real**__ mother. She gets paid to do a women's duty for God's sake! Cooking, clearing tables and washing dishes are supposed to be mandatory chores, __**not**__ an occupation!' _She thought, feeling that turning her emotions on something else would help her against blowing up at her daughter-in-law's parenting.

Somehow, they managed a relatively peaceful dinner, with Niamh getting fed afterwards while Elaine got in the way with her opinions about Valerie's feeding techniques until Stephen told her to back off. Afterwards, Niamh was burped and fell asleep and Stephen and Valerie headed home.

Gregory and Elaine ended up spending much of their time after that night shopping for Niamh and exchanging what they had initially bought in hopes of a grandson and even picking up some extra items. However, it was Greg doing the majority of the shopping while Elaine simply grumbled about the money and being cheated out of her grandson. He ignored it and happily indulged in things for Niamh, even picking up a cute, pink blanket with a dark, satin border that read "Grandpa Loves Me," and became her second-favourite blanket, next to her "Daddy's Girl" one. And, over the next few months, everyone settled into a comfortable routine. After three months of being home, Valerie headed back to work, leaving Niamh in the care of her mother during day events and Stephen during evening events. It worked out well, especially since Niamh easily took to being bottle fed breast milk instead of getting it directly from her mother all the time. When she was home, Valerie relished the time shared with her daughter and had a great time filling in her baby book. She had let Eleanor, the artist in the family, customize the previously blank cover and the book ended up being titled "Our Angel: Niamh Cranitch" with a cute picture of Niamh in the middle of it. By five months, she began to eat more solid food while struggling with teething, making her parents invest heavily in teething rings and other soft toys for her. And, the day she turned six months old, the small family once again gathered in Greg and Elaine's living room for a visit. By that time, Elaine mellowed out a little bit, but still got in the way with her constant badgering about Valerie's parenting techniques.

"She _loves_ you," Valerie teased as Niamh crawled into Stephen's lap while he sat on the floor.

"Of course she does," Stephen said, smiling as she finally settled herself into his lap. He had chosen a simple, jeans and t-shirt outfit for the day while Valerie had matched her jeans with a buttoned, lavender blouse and had dressed Niamh in a light-pink shirt that read "Daddy loves me," and a dark-pink skirt with a matching, dark-pink bow band around her head, deciding to leave the socks and shoes alone, as she was getting to be too good at losing them. She had simply wrapped her in a blanket for the trip, letting her go once they were in the house.

"Is there a reason she never wears socks?" Greg asked as Niamh grabbed a fistful of Stephen's shirt and put it in her mouth.

"She doesn't like them," Stephen explained as he untangled Niamh's hand from his shirt. "Every time we put them on she just kicks them off, so we don't bother if we don't have to…Niamh, stop that." He grabbed and untangled her hand again.

Niamh frowned and Valerie presented her with a teether to chew on. After staring at it curiously, Niamh took the heart-shaped ring and put it in her mouth, finally leaving Papa's shirt alone.

"Good girl, Angel. Now, no more messing with Papa's clothes, okay?" Valerie asked, receiving a small giggle in response before Niamh focused wholly on the teether.

"How's she doing with the teething?" Elaine asked.

"Alright," Valerie said "She fusses more than usual, but usually the teether calms her down."

"Is she eating well?"

"_Yes_, Mum," Stephen sighed. "She eats just fine. Valerie makes her food."

"You _make_ baby food?"

"All I really have to do is put the food in the blender," Valerie said, as she didn't feel like relaying all the steps she took to prepare Niamh's food. "Why waste money when I can do it myself? It's beyond easy compared to the dishes I make at work."

"She doesn't eat snacks, does she?"

"She _does_," Stephen replied, "But not all the time."

"I found that she's fond of those little peanut butter wheels we get at the shop," Valerie said.

"You're _already_ feeding her peanuts?"

"No, we're giving her cookies with peanut flavouring. The pediatrician said it was okay. Get off my back, will you?" Valerie snapped.

"Valerie," Stephen warned as Niamh crawled out of his lap and headed over to the couch where Greg sat.

"Don't look at me. I'm not the one telling others how to parent," Valerie said.

"I'm just concerned for my granddaughter," Elaine retorted as Niamh stopped at Grandpa's foot and held her arms up.

"Come on up, Angel," He said, ignoring his wife and daughter-in-law's bantering. He sat Niamh in his lap and watched as she stared at her mother and grandma and pointed at them with a whine.

"Valerie, I think someone wants your attention," Stephen said, finally breaking their argument.

"What's the matter with my Angel?" Valerie said as she picked her up.

Once she was in her mother's arms, Niamh nestled her head into her shoulder and lay comfortably.

"I think she's tired," Stephen said.

"Which means it's time for us to go home. Thank you for lunch," Valerie said as she helped Stephen gather Niamh's belongings.

Niamh wasn't too happy when her mum put her down to put her coat on, but settled again once she was comfortably wrapped in a blanket and secured into her car seat.

Valerie smiled back at her at Stephen started to drive off, both of them knowing that they still had a _long_ road ahead, as it was only the _beginning_ of their time as a family. And, though Niamh _was_ an accident, they both knew they couldn't live without her now and wouldn't have it any other way.


	7. Visiting Grandma

_**Visiting Grandma **_

_**A/N: **_This is just a small interlude attached to Niamh's birth story that occurs awhile later, when she's nineteen months. It was a plot stuck in my head that was begging to be written and was inspired by a coworker of mine. And, for the record, at this age, Niamh does know how to talk and has a small vocabulary; she simply doesn't feel like showing it yet. She's just quiet, which, I have been told, is realistic. She didn't become talkative until she was a little over two and had to start speaking to get what she wanted and express feelings.

* * *

_Timeline: Mid-September 1991_

"Do we _have _to do this?" Valerie whined as she trudged up the steps to her mother-in-law's house with nineteen-month-old Niamh in her arms. Valerie herself had chosen a simple outfit that consisted of a ruffled, white blouse and jeans with black boots, the outfit covered by her usual, black jacket to fight off the September cold. Niamh was placed in a simple, long-sleeved violet dress, black tights and matching black Mary-Jane shoes that she disliked, her dress covered by a lavender jacket.

"You know the answer to that," Stephen replied, briefly adjusting his own black jacket that covered a simple outfit of jeans and a black polo shirt with his usual court shoes. "Besides, we can't deny her the right to see her granddaughter."

"But you _know_ how she is! She's always criticizing my methods and giving me these crazy ideas about how I should raise _my_ daughter."

"Just ignore her and it will be fine," He said, knocking at the door as they stopped.

'_You just don't understand, do you?' _She thought as the door opened. In its frame stood an older woman, slightly shorter than Valerie with eyes like her son's and dark hair that was graying. Like both Valerie and Stephen, she was dressed simply. Her outfit consisted of only a long, black skirt and a white blouse, and, since she was inside, she wore no shoes, only slippers.

"Stephen," She said, quickly embracing him. "Valerie and…" She said, pretending as if she didn't know the girl at Valerie's hip.

"Niamh!" Niamh said.

"Oh, right. Hello, Sweetheart."

"She's not a Sweetheart she's an Angel," Valerie muttered.

"_Valerie_," Stephen warned as they were motioned inside.

"So, how are you, Elaine?" Valerie asked, gently setting Niamh on the floor and helping her in slipping off her little coat.

Once on the ground, Niamh sat and proceeded to pull off her shoes and throw them aside, as they were tight and hurt her feet. Her mum had said that she had to wear them because they were a present from Grandma, but she didn't understand. All she knew was that they hurt.

"I'm doing well enough. I'm sorry that Greg isn't here. He's off fishing somewhere because of a prior engagement."

Valerie simply nodded and set a few toys out for Niamh to amuse herself with. "Play with these and be good," She said, only to receive a nod in response. She sighed. Sometimes it was frustrating that Niamh was so quiet. She could talk well enough, but didn't seem to feel like doing so most of the time. At first, she had panicked about her daughter's lack of speaking, but the pediatrician assured her that Niamh was doing fine. She was simply quiet.

"How about a real answer? Don't you want to show Grandma how well you're talking?" Valerie insisted.

Niamh thought for a moment, then she pushed herself up and walked off into the kitchen.

"Where is she going?" Elaine asked.

Stephen shrugged. "I don't know, but she'll be back soon enough."

"You really shouldn't let her wander around like that. She could get hurt."

"She's fine, Mum. This is normal for her. If nothing interests her she'll come back. We only worry if she disappears for more than five minutes."

As soon as he finished speaking, as if on cue, Niamh came back around the other side of the kitchen and settled herself in front of her toys.

"Maybe I should put up a gate or two…just in case…"

"Why don't we just sit down?" Stephen quickly suggested.

"Alright, just let me get you something. I already have things made up." Elaine headed into the kitchen and Stephen and Valerie settled on the sofa, waiting until she returned with some tea and a small platter of biscuits.

"How have things been going for you two?" Elaine asked. "How's life at the Barr, Stephen?"

"Same as always. I'm thinking about working my way up to being a judge," He said, picking up a biscuit as he spoke.

"That's wonderful! And something you're well suited for, I think. You've always had a strong sense of justice. You get that from your father you know. And, what about you, Valerie? Anything…interesting?"

"I'm doing a wedding next week. Cooking and serving dinner for two-hundred people. Weddings are fun, but always a bit of a challenge," Valerie replied.

"And what of Niamh? What's she been up to?"

"Being quiet."

"Maybe you should see a speech therapist of some sort. If you ask me, it's a bit troubling that she still doesn't talk. She's far past that age, isn't she?"

"She knows how to talk, Mum," Stephen said. "She just doesn't like to."

"Nonsense! _All_ toddlers love to talk. Niamh! Come here, Sweetheart!"

Niamh simply looked at her, but stayed in the same place as if to say, 'You are not my parent or Nana. I'm not listening to you.'

"Niamh, I told you to _come here_," Elaine insisted, only to have Niamh turn her head. "Have you not taught her how to follow orders?"

'_Of course we have, she just doesn't like you,'_ Valerie thought, not daring to say it aloud. "Niamh," She called, motioning her with a wave of her hand. "Come here."

Niamh turned again at the sound of her name and stared at her mum, contemplating her choices for a minute. Then, finally, she got up and toddled over.

"Come on up, Angel," Valerie said, picking her up and setting her in her father's lap. "Grandma wants to speak with you."

"Let's try something easy. Who is this?" Elaine asked, pointing to Stephen.

Niamh looked up at him for a moment, but said nothing.

"If you tell me, I'll give you a treat," Elaine picked up a cookie from the plate, which Niamh pointed at.

"You have to tell me who he is first."

Niamh frowned and continued pointing.

"If you won't speak then I guess you don't want it."

Niamh looked towards Valerie and pointed at Elaine.

"What is it that you want, Angel?" Valerie asked.

She continued pointing, and when no one would give her what she wanted, she pouted and settled into Stephen's arms.

"Are you sure you don't want to see somebody? I could…"

"She's _fine_!" Valerie snapped.

"Mum yelling," Niamh said, putting her hands over her ears to show her disapproval.

"See? Sorry, Angel. Go ahead and put her down Stephen."

"Must you insist on calling her that? You'll be lucky if she doesn't end up confused about her name," Elaine pointed out.

"She knows what her name is, Mum. She came when Valerie called, didn't she?"

"Yes but…"

"Exactly. Now, did I tell you about the murder trial I was doing?" Stephen said, easily distracting his mother with details of the case. While the adult talked, switching subjects every few moments or so, Niamh amused herself with her dolls, muttering a bit of gibberish here and there as she did so.

After awhile Elaine glanced at the clock and said to Valerie, "Isn't Niamh overdue for a nap? It's past four."

"She took her nap before we came here," Valerie said. "Stop telling me what to do."

"I'm concerned for the child that's all!"

Before Valerie could snap back, she felt a tug at her blouse and turned to Niamh. "Yes, Niamh?"

"I'm thirsty," She said, knowing the only way to get what she want this time was to say it, as, she didn't know where her mother was keeping the snacks.

Without saying a word, Valerie rifled through the bag at her feet and pulled out a box of juice, which, after putting the straw in, she immediately handed to her daughter.

"You can't give her that!" Elaine said with slight shock in her voice. "She'll get it all over the carpet!"

"Relax, Mum. It's just apple juice. If she _does_ spill it, it'll come right out," Stephen said.

Elaine simply crossed her arms and watched Niamh carefully, making sure to lookout for even one little stray drop.

"Anyway…" Stephen said, trying to change the subject. "How do you feel about going out for dinner?"

"I'd have to get changed and…"

"Then go get ready. We're not going anywhere."

"Shouldn't we wait for your father to come home?"

"By the time you're done he'll probably be back. Go."

"Alright, if that's what you want…" Elaine said as she stood.

Halfway through her hour of pitter-pattering around, Stephen's father, Gregory, walked in clad in full fishing attire.

"Grandpa!" Niamh said, always having favoured him more than Elaine.

"Hello, Niamh," He said, leaning down to pick her up. "You're getting heavy…Uh…What is it that you call her?"

"Angel," Valerie replied.

"Right. You're getting heavy, Angel."

Niamh simply laughed and held her arms out for a hug.

Valerie smiled, she always liked Gregory a bit more than Elaine. While he _could_ be uptight, he was generally a bit more laid back. Of course, his attitude got better once he adjusted to and started to enjoy his granddaughter, rather than wishing she was a boy.

"There you are, Greg!" Elaine said as she came down the stairs. "Put the girl down and get some decent clothes, we're going out to dinner."

''_The girl' has a name!'_ Valerie thought as she stood to take her from Greg. "I'll take her, I need to put her shoes on anyway."

"_No_!" Niamh protested at the mention of shoes.

"Now, Niamh, You _have_ to wear shoes to the restaurant," Stephen said.

Niamh frowned.

"She does have a point, Stephen. Those shoes are a bit small," Valerie said. "Besides, I don't think it'll be a bother since she's a toddler."

"That's irresponsible, don't you think?" Elaine asked. "What if she needs to get up?"

"She'll be fine. Besides, we have extra shoes if needed," Valerie said through gritted teeth, resisting every urge to slap her mother-in-law.

They settled for a moment as they got their coats on and Greg returned. Ultimately, they decided to take Stephen's car, so they wouldn't have to go through the process of moving Niamh's car seat.

Once Valerie got her settled in, she handed her a stuffed animal to amuse herself with and moved to the front, secretly grateful that Greg took the place right next to her daughter. Along the way, Elaine tried offering her usual, obnoxious parenting suggestions. While Stephen could easily shrug her off, it drove Valerie up the wall, and she decided that she had to do something. Something just to aggravate her and make her shut up. What that was, she didn't know yet, but she was sure she'd figure it out. And she did once they were seated at the restaurant. After looking at the arrangement, Valerie said, "I want Niamh to sit next to me."

"Alright," Stephen shrugged and they all moved around so that Valerie sat at the end of the booth, where Niamh sat in a chair with a booster seat.

Valerie smiled at her and then gave Elaine a sly smile that went unnoticed when the waiter came to take their order.

After glancing at the menu, she decided on roast pork with mash and green beans, which she requested be covered with Italian dressing, and a biscuit, laughing inwardly at Stephen's mother's choice of a salad.

'_Typical. This woman cooks alright but does __**not**__ know how to eat,' _Valerie thought, keeping an eye on Niamh, who eagerly watched the people around her. One of the benefits of her quietness was that she was easy to bring to restaurants. She spent her time people watching, as she always did, having had the habit since she was born. It was one of her ways of exploring the world around her.

When the food arrived the conversation cried down and Niamh looked over the table, eventually focusing on her mother's plate. She let out a small whine as she stared and Valerie looked at her.

"What's the matter?" She said, knowing Elaine was watching and that it was time to put her plan into action. "Do you want some, Niamh?"

Elaine's eyes went wide. _'Niamh is __**not**__ supposed to be eating adult food! She's supposed to still be eating chunky baby food!' _She thought.

With a wide smile, Valerie cut off a small piece of pork and handed it to Niamh, who promptly put it in her mouth. "Good girl. You want more, Angel?" She said, handing her another piece.

Niamh took it and pointed at the plate, indicating that she wanted more.

Valerie dug through her bag and got a small fork that she had brought along with the snacks in case Niamh got hungry. And, throughout the meal she kept feeding her bits and pieces of her dinner, while Elaine sat across the way and glared at her, her expression clearly stating, 'I disapprove of this.'

Valerie silently laughed, as did Stephen and even Greg.

Niamh picked up on it and began to laugh with them. Though she was unsure of exactly what was going on, she knew they were happy and that made her happy.


	8. Niamh's Fever

_**Niamh's Fever**_

_**A/N: **_This is another one of my early _Silk_ tales and it's not all that good. There are a few questionable plot points at certain points, but since it's part of the collection, I figured I'd post it. I'm also aware that there are stories missing in between this one and the last one. Why? Because I haven't written them yet. I still have yet to write Niamh meeting Nick's parents, and am missing a Christmas story. But, just be patient with me. I'll get it done when I can. And, since it will come up here, I should probably tell you about Niamh's father. Though he can seem mean and angry a lot, he's really not. He simply has trouble expressing his emotions, grief and worry being the hardest. Since he doesn't like to show them, they often come out as anger. Does that make sense at all? In other words, it's his major character flaw.

I'd also like to thank you guys for your kind reviews. Nice to find out the lack of them was simply because the story couldn't be found and not because I'm a bad writer. Thank you all for your kind words and support!

* * *

_Timeline: Early January 2012, a week after New Year's. _

Niamh sighed as she flipped through a brief. While it was interesting work, she was finding it hard to concentrate. In fact, she was close to falling asleep and would have were it not for her pounding head.

"What are you working on?" Nick said as he stepped into their room.

"Aggravated burglary," Niamh muttered as she halfheartedly shuffled papers around.

"In court tomorrow?"

Niamh nodded.

"Are you alright?" He set a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired. I haven't been sleeping well."

"Well, I hope you feel better," Nick said, finishing with a light kiss on her head.

"Thanks." She gave him a small smile as he left, having only come to pick up a few items before heading home. Niamh stayed, halfheartedly taking notes until all the pages began to blur. _'I can't do this anymore,' _She thought as she slammed the binder shut. The work was beginning to irritate her, and she was uncomfortable sitting at her desk. With a long sigh, she gathered her things, and, after double-checking them, headed out and rammed straight into Clive.

"Sorry. I…I should've been looking," She said.

"Are you alright?" Clive asked as she looked up at him with tired eyes.

"I'm _fine_. I wish everyone would stop asking," Niamh muttered as she moved on, not caring that she brushed his shoulder as she walked by.

'_Well…That was rude,' _Clive thought and headed on his way. He figured that she was simply in a bad mood and didn't want to bother.

Once outside, Niamh took in a breath, checked her watch and headed off, hoping to catch the next bus to avoid a long walk in the cold. Unfortunately, she was a minute too late and ended up waiting almost a half hour in the cold for the following one, making her feel _worse_ than she already did. When she finally stepped into her flat, she dropped her belongings at the door and collapsed on the sofa, contemplating the idea of staying. Instead, she got up after a few moments, pulled off her shoes and stockings and replaced them with slippers before moving into the kitchen, where she opened and stared into the fridge. She had thought that eating would make her feel better, but found nothing to be appetizing, in fact, the sight of the food nauseated her.

'_What is __**wrong**__ with me?' _She thought, deciding to skip supper and finish reading her brief. Though the signs were there, she refused to admit she was getting sick, and thought that, if she was, it was a passing cold and would go away by itself. She picked up her briefcase and carefully laid each item on her coffee table, sitting on the sofa behind it to look over it.

First, she double-checked her previous notes, then she moved onto the untouched pages and the details on the disk that had come with it.

'_Previous includes two other burglaries and a drunk driving charge. No, wait, reckless driving,' _She though as she wrote some notes in the margins of a page, sighing as she did so. She felt like doing _none_ of this, and the words were beginning to blur together again. Finally, after an hour, she stopped. _'I'm done. I can just…work on it tomorrow. I need a bath.' _She thought, hoping that the bath would make her feel better. After running a bit of water she poured in her usual lavender and vanilla solution and half heartedly swirled the water around with her hand. After she was satisfied with the water level and temperature, Niamh stepped in, and found that it did make her feel better, for a bit. She nearly fell asleep _three_ times after she finished washing, and after the third she decided that it was time to get out. After wrapping herself in a towel, Niamh went into her bedroom, threw one of her pyjama sets on the bed and grabbed her mobile, which had three missed calls-two from Billy and one from Nick. She decided to answer Nick's first, figuring that Billy could wait.

"Niamh?" Nick said when he answered.

"Why did you call me?" Niamh asked.

"Oh…I wanted to know if a date might cheer you up. I thought I could come over and…"

"Not tonight, Nick. I'm _tired_. It's a nice idea, but…"

"I know. Rain check?"

"Sure."

"I hope you feel better."

"You said that in chambers."

"I mean it. I hate seeing you like this is just…not you."

"Thanks. Bye," At that, she simply hung up. She didn't feel like dealing with anyone and decided to ignore Billy until the next day. She simply got up, threw the towel aside and pulled on her pyjamas. She thought about eating again, but a second look made the food even less appetizing. She just gave up and shut off all her lights, brushed her teeth and climbed into bed, feeling too run down to do _anything_ but sleep. Once in bed, she simply passed out, falling into a much-needed, dreamless, deep sleep that was suddenly broken at six AM.

Niamh woke with a horrible, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach and curled up, willing it to stop so that she could sleep. _'Please…Just stop!' _She thought, sitting up when it wouldn't stop. Her breathing became involuntarily hard and shallow and was accompanied by a rise in her throat that she forced back down. _'Oh, God…__**no**__.' _She thought. There was no way this was happening, not now, not when she had a trial at nine. However, she _knew_ better and forced herself up when she once again felt the bile rise up. Niamh clamped a hand over her mouth and managed to hold back until she collapsed in front of the toilet. _'No, no, no, __**NO**__!' _She thought with tears in her eyes. _'Why now? Why me?! Oh, God…' _She leaned forward again, and let the tears fall as she retched through being sick, regretting her ignorance of it over the past few days. Once she calmed a bit, she left the bathroom to retrieve her mobile, knowing she'd have to ring chambers. Unfortunately, no one arrived until seven, so, she set it aside and leaned against the bathtub, feeling that what she was going through was far from over.

As soon as seven hit, she dialed and got Billy.

"Shoe Lane Chambers," He said.

"Billy? It's Niamh. Listen, I can't make trial today. I'm sick."

"You can't be _that_ sick, you were alright yesterday."

'_If only you knew! Maybe I __**should**__ come in just so I can throw up all over you!'_ She thought.

"What are we to do about your trial? Everyone is booked."

"Nick isn't. Give it to him. It's minor and I've done all the notes."

Billy sighed, "Fine. I'll send someone to pick it up, just have it ready."

"Thank you. I'm sorry about this, really. If it was up to me I…I…" She trailed off as she felt a now familiar feeling and cut the call off, practically throwing her mobile from the room as she retched _again_.

At chambers, Billy stared at the phone in his hand and shrugged, then, he put in a call to their usual delivery service and rang Nick to tell him he was needed in chambers.

Though, he asked questions, Nick did as he was told and got ready to head to chambers, while, after waiting around for fifteen minutes with nothing happening, Niamh deemed herself fit to get up and headed into the longue to prepare her brief for delivery. After gathering and organizing the stray papers, she doubled checked the disks and tied it all together with the ribbon it had come with. As soon as she finished she returned to the bathroom and brushed her teeth _three_ times in an attempt to wash the horrid taste from her mouth.

'_This is disgusting!' _She thought with a scowl once she finished the third brushing. Afterwards, she immediately threw the brush in the trash, though she knew it wasn't possible to get sick from using it again, she found it disgusting to even think of using it again and simply replaced it. She then thought to lay back down, but was taken from that thought by a knock.

'_That's probably the bike…' _She thought as she headed back into the longue and answered the door, finding a young man holding a bike helmet that matched his uniform.

"Come in," Niamh said, beckoning him in a bit.

The man stood in the door frame and waited while she picked up the bundle that was the brief.

"This should be everything. You know where it is going, correct?"

"Yes, Miss. I just need you to sign here," He held out a clipboard and she set the brief down to take it.

Niamh tried balancing it on her knee to sign, something she was normally good at, but everything blurred under her tired eyes, and she couldn't keep it steady.

"Here," The man sighed, holding it in place. "Just sign here, and initial here and here." He pointed out the lines, noticing her trouble and watched as she marked each place as instructed. Then he picked up the brief and turned to leave. "Thank you," He said. "And, Miss?"

"Yes?" Niamh sighed as they stood in the doorway.

"Get some rest. You look like you need it."

"Thanks," Niamh replied before shutting the door, thinking, _'As if I didn't know that!' _As soon as it was closed, she headed into the kitchen to search her small medicine cupboard, for something-_anything_ to hold off her symptoms and found nothing, not even a bottle of aspirin. _'You've got to be bloody kidding me!' _She thought with a groan as she mentally slapped herself for not thinking about medicine at all, not even when it first started.

'_I guess I'm screwed then. I'll just have to deal…I probably deserve it for my ignorance anyway…' _She thought on her way back to the bedroom. She took her time, setting up her bed by arranging her pillows and dragging out her favourite blanket before lying down. She lay in silence for a few moments, letting her thoughts run as she tried to settle down, only to go into a fit of coughing. Once it passed, she began to cry. She felt disgusting, miserable and pathetic and hated herself for it. She didn't want to be stuck in bed; she wanted to be in chambers, the same place that Nick was stepping into at that moment, his first stop being the clerks' room.

"You wanted to see me?" He said to Billy.

"Ah, yes. You're doing Miss Cranitch's trial for her," Billy said. "The brief should be here soon."

"Wait…What? Why can't Niamh do her own trial?"

"She called out sick."

"Niamh doesn't get sick, or so she claims…"

"Well, her claim is wrong and you're due in court in an hour."

Knowing the conversation was over, Nick left, thinking, _'Niamh can't be sick…She __**did**__ look unwell, but I thought she was just tired…I wonder if she's alright…She __**does**__ live alone, and…' _He was brought from his thoughts when he slammed into something and ended up on his bum. When he looked up, he found that the something was actually Martha.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry," He said as he helped her up.

"It's not like you to wander off into space. Is something wrong?" Martha asked as she picked up her belongings. "Wait…Why are you here? I thought you didn't have any work for today."

"Niamh's sick, so, I'm doing her trial for her."

"Niamh doesn't get sick."

"That's what I said, but Billy said she called saying she was, and, you know she doesn't lie."

"Is she alright?"

"I don't know…I'm thinking about seeing her later."

"You do that. She probably needs the company."

At that, Martha headed off to her room, and Nick pulled out his mobile and dialed Niamh, only to get her voicemail.

'_Something must be wrong. She always answers her mobile…Unless she's sleeping or in the…shower…' _He thought, the idea of her in the shower distracting him for a few moments until Jimmy appeared behind him.

"Your brief, sir."

"Thanks," Nick muttered as he took it and then headed to his and Niamh's room, where, he dropped it on his desk. He glanced through as much as he could, reading most of the notes before he had to leave for court. Once he arrived, he took the time to meet with the client and discuss the points Niamh had gone over and some of his own ideas. From her notes, he knew that the client was pleading guilty. His only remaining task was to argue for a light sentence. Though he didn't agree with it, he knew that it was his job and did his best to prepare a defense based on the client's requests.

"I hope you know what you're doing," The man muttered as Nick sat.

'_So do I…' _He thought, saying, "Let's just get through this. Now, you know what it's possible to get, but maybe we can reduce it."

"Can I get bail?"

"Probably not," Nick replied, remembering Niamh's notes. "However, like I said, it's possible to reduce it."

"Why can't I get bail?"

"Because of your previous. Forget the bail. Let's work on what we can do," Nick said, sighing in his mind.

They spent some time negotiating sentences and deciding how to present their defense, and, Nick left feeling confident in it, despite having little time to prepare. He did what he could in the courtroom, always keeping a conscious eye on the time, hoping that it would be over soon. The moment they adjourned, he did a quick follow up with the client about the next day, and quickly bailed out. Luckily, he was just in time to catch a bus, which was a much faster way to his destination then walking. Granted, he could have always taken the underground, but didn't feel like fighting the crowd.

A half hour or so later, Niamh, who had spent the better part of her day sleeping, woke to a knock.

'_Oh, go away!' _She thought as she rolled over, hoping that they would. She finally forced herself up when it was obvious that it wouldn't stop and practically threw open the door.

"Nick?" She said, her curious look quickly turning into an embarrassed one. "Oh, God…I'm sorry. I know I look…"

"Sick?" Nick finished, already knowing the answer. While he _knew_ she was sick, he hadn't expected her to look as horrible as she did. Under normal circumstances, he found her 'just risen from bed' look cute, but now, he felt sorry for her. She was pale, and had a tried look in her eyes, which were glassed over and just a bit red, as if she had been crying and she looked as if she was ready to collapse.

"Yes. If I had known it was you I…" She trailed off as her words delved into a fit of coughing.

Nick stepped in and put an arm around her, soothingly rubbing her back until it passed. "I think you need to go back to bed," He said, leading her back into her bedroom.

Surprisingly, she didn't protest and even allowed him to tuck her in.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Rude," She replied.

"What?"

"I didn't invite you in. Therefore, you're rude," Niamh said with a weak smile.

Nick let out a small chuckle and said, "Just go to sleep."

Niamh responded with a rather loud sneeze and a groan as she grabbed a tissue from the box on her nightstand.

He couldn't help but give her a sympathetic smile, a few questions rising to his mind as he did so. "Have you eaten?" He suddenly asked.

"Not since lunch yesterday," Niamh confessed. "I wanted to last night, but even looking at food nauseated me."

"You're not going to get better if you don't eat."

"Oh, be quiet. You're my boyfriend, not my mum. It's no business of yours."

"Niamh…" Nick sighed. "It's my business because I care about you and I want you to get well. Now, you sleep and I'll find you something to eat."

"Nothing heavy," Niamh instructed.

"Alright," Nick nodded and gave her a light kiss on the head before leaving the room. Once he stepped back into the longue he took his shoes off and threw his jacket and tie on the sofa, then, he headed into the kitchen. He stood in the middle of it, wondering what to make…He wasn't used to caring for others and felt a bit lost. After a few moments, he suddenly remembered that when he was sick, his mum always made soup. It was something that wasn't too heavy, and seemed simple enough to make. Unfortunately, he didn't find any decent ingredients in the fridge, and, on a whim, he opened the freezer and found exactly what he was looking for. In it were several different, frozen dishes, including a small bowl labeled 'vegetable soup in chicken broth.'

'_Perfect…' _He thought, smiling at the fact that he now had to cook nothing. He simply put the bowl in the microwave to let it thaw and then transferred it to a pot on the cooker. While the soup warmed, Nick searched the cupboards for dishes and a tray to put them on, but, unable to find the latter, he decided to simply change his method of serving. When he came back into Niamh's room, he found that she had fallen asleep and gently shook her awake. "Niamh…" He whispered.

Niamh sat up with a groan, part of her wishing that he would just go away and let her be miserable.

"Here," Nick said, handing her a violet mug as he sat on the bed. "I couldn't find a tray and without it a bowl is…"

"This is fine," Niamh said before taking a sip. _'Will it stay down?' _She asked herself as she sat back. After a minute, she decided that it would and kept drinking, glancing up when she saw Nick's hand rising.

"May I?" He asked.

She nodded and soon felt his hand on her forehead.

"You have a fever."

"I _know_ that," Niamh snapped.

"Have you taken anything for it or _any_ of your symptoms?"

Niamh shook her head. "I have nothing to take."

"_Niamh_! How can you _not_ have medicine?"

"Because I don't get sick! The last time I did, it was a small cold and required nothing more than some rest and aspirin."

"In that case, I'll go the pharmacy and get you something," Nick said, setting a gentle hand on her cheek.

Niamh gave him a small smile and he got up, intending to head out until she called him back.

"What?" He asked, watching as she sieved through her handbag on the floor.

"If you're going, use this," She said, handing him a series of bank notes. "You shouldn't have to pay for _my_ medicine."

He simply nodded and headed out again. It was a short distance to the nearest pharmacy, and once he was inside, he stood contemplating the products on the shelf.

'_Why didn't I ask her about her symptoms? All of these are different…' _He thought as he compared two things. _'Okay…Aside from her fever, I know she's coughing and I'm pretty sure she's congested…' _He sighed and, not wanting to waste anymore time, finally decided on a multi-symptom liquid. He returned to an empty flat, which both worried and confused him until he heard something hit the floor in the bathroom.

"Niamh? Are you alright?" He asked as he tapped on the door.

"I'm fine. I just dropped my comb," She replied.

"Are you almost done? I have something for you."

"Give me a moment."

He nodded to the door and took a place on the sofa, flipping through a random magazine to pass time until Niamh appeared. She looked a bit better and had changed into her favourite, violet pyjama set, which was a simple set that consisted of a spaghetti strap top with a few flowers by the right strap and matching trousers.

"Sorry. I took a shower while you were gone. I felt like I needed it."

"You look a _little _better."

"Thanks," Niamh muttered as she turned away.

"Niamh! I didn't mean…" Nick said, ending with a groan.

Niamh ignored him; she honestly didn't care what he thought. She simply wanted to crawl back into bed.

Nick stepped in just as she was settling down, made her sit up and gave her a glass of water. "Drink this," He ordered. Once she finished, he handed her the medicine and watched as she stared at it. "You're supposed to drink it."

"Did you _have_ to get a liquid?"

"Just drink it."

Niamh sighed and forced the disgusting liquid down her throat.

Nick almost laughed at the face she made, but managed to hold back and simply took the cup when she handed it back. "Are you going back to sleep?"

Niamh nodded. "I know I'm being lazy, but…"

"You're not lazy. It's just your body's way of getting better."

"My mum used to tell me that when I was young."

"Mine did too. That's where I got it from."

Niamh gave a small laugh and coughed again.

"The medicine should take care of that."

She simply nodded and turned away from him.

Nick smiled as he watched her snuggle underneath her duvet and left once she fell asleep. This time, it turned out to be a short nap that only lasted thirty minutes. She stayed awake for a bit, passing time by reading, something she had little time to do anymore, and ringing Felicia, wanting someone to talk to. Granted, she had Nick, but she was sure he wasn't interested in clothes and makeup and all of the small, girly things she talked about with her best friend. Meanwhile, Nick spent his time preparing for the second part of his trial and searching for food, hoping that she wouldn't mind his eating some of her leftovers. Occasionally, he would check in on Niamh and give her water to drink, knowing she had to keep her fluids up. He was then brought from his tasks by a knock at four.

"Martha?" He asked when he answered.

"How's Niamh?" Martha asked, letting herself in.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was worried about her. Didn't expect you to answer, but it's not surprising. Can I see her?"

"Sure, but she's probably sleeping."

"How long have you been here?" Martha asked as she headed into Niamh's bedroom.

"Since my trial ended. I've been looking after her," Nick replied.

Martha simply nodded and sat on the bed after flicking on the light, surprised when Niamh didn't react to it. "Niamh?" She whispered as she gently moved some hair out of Niamh's face, immediately pulling her hand back and placing it on her forehead. "My God…"

"What?"

"Do you have a thermometer?"

"I…I think so."

"Find it. _Now_."

Fueled by the urgency in her voice, Nick quickly headed into the bathroom and threw open the medicine cupboard which despite its name held no kind of medication. _'Of course it's full of cosmetics…' _He thought as he looked it up and down, finding what he was looking for on the top shelf with her extra toothbrushes and floss. When he returned, Martha was gently shaking Niamh awake.

"Martha…?" Niamh muttered when she finally opened her eyes.

"Yes, it's me. Can you sit up for me?" Martha asked, gently helping her up. She then took the thermometer from Nick and ordered, "Open."

"For what? I…" Before she could say anymore, Martha stuck the thermometer in her mouth.

They all sat in silence until it beeped, after which, Martha took it and Niamh fell back onto the bed, having only been half awake.

Martha gasped and read it aloud in a whisper, "Forty degrees…" After a moment of contemplation she made an impulse decision and looked at Nick, "We have to take her to the hospital."

"What?"

"We don't have a choice. With a fever like this she _needs_ to see a doctor and all of the family physicians are closed. Besides, I don't know her normal doctor," As she spoke, Martha stood and walked over to Niamh's wardrobe. After a moment of searching, she pulled out a small tote bag, and in it, she threw a set of clothing, including a matching pair of shoes, Niamh's mobile, purse, and slippers. Then she picked up her handbag and turned back to Nick. "Get her ready and, and make sure she's warm."

"How are we going to get there? We all can't fit in your car."

"We'll take a cab. Just get her," At that, she left the room.

After a bit of hesitation, Nick did as he was told and gently picked Niamh up after making sure that she was put into half-decent, warm coverings. He tried not to wake her and succeeded until they stepped into the cab.

She was moving, Niamh knew that much when she began to come to. She smelled a mix of man's cologne and perfume and forced herself to open her eyes. "Nick?" She asked. "W…What's happening?"

"Don't worry about it. You're going to be alright," Martha said.

"What?" Niamh said, her voice a soft whisper as she started to drift back to sleep. She wanted to stay awake, to find out what was happening, but everything seemed too far away. The darkness was…comfortable and it wasn't long before she drifted off, falling into unconsciousness.

Eventually, she awoke to a world of light. After blinking a few times, it became apparent that the brightness was actually a series of lights in an all-white room. She turned her head to the side and, after a moment of struggle, was able to make out the sight of a familiar figure in a chair.

"M…Martha?" She asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Immediately, Martha stood and rushed over. "You're awake."

"What happened? Where am I?"

Martha gave her a small smile and brushed a strand of hair from her face, "You're in the hospital. You were running a high fever and we had to do something."

Niamh thought to speak again, but then suddenly realized the uncomfortable feeling in her arm. It felt as if someone had pricked her, or something of the like. "What's wrong with my arm?" She finally asked.

"Since you were unconscious, the doctor had to give your fever suppressant via shot," Martha explained.

"Where's Nick?" Niamh asked, remembering that he had been with her before.

"He's waiting in the hall. Do you want to see him?"

Niamh nodded.

"Alright. I'll go get him," Martha said. When she came into the hall, Nick was staring out a window, the worry clear on his face.

He turned at the sound of her footsteps.

"She wants to see you."

"She's awake?"

Martha nodded, and moved on into the waiting area as Nick came into Niamh's room.

"Niamh?"

"Nick." Niamh sat up a bit and found herself being pulled into his arms.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asked, his hand resting on her cheek.

"Sick."

"I guess that's to be expected. You scared us, Niamh."

Not knowing how to react, Niamh simply nodded.

"Niamh!" A voice from the door called.

"Mum? Papa?" Niamh asked as Valerie rushed into the room and pulled her into her own arms.

"Thank God you're alright. When we heard you were in the hospital we came right away. What happened?" Valerie said, pulling back at the last question and cupping Niamh's face with one hand.

"I got sick and…"

"_This_ is what happens when you don't take care of yourself!" Stephen snapped. "I thought you _knew _better Niamh! We didn't raise you to be ignorant!"

"Stephen," Valerie sighed as he left with an angered sigh of his own.

"This is normal," Niamh said to Nick after noticing his disgusted look. "I know he seems angry, but he's not. He's just…never been good at expressing his feelings."

Valerie nodded in agreement and Nick settled a bit. He had been ready to give her father a piece of his mind, to ask how he could react that way when his daughter was sick, but shrugged it off after Niamh explained it.

"I'll talk to him," Valerie offered.

Niamh nodded and watched as she left, leaving her and Nick alone.

"I brought you something," He said as she finally took notice of the bag over his shoulder. From it, he pulled out a lavender blanket and draped it over her. The blanket had been a Christmas gift and was kept at his flat for when she stayed over. "I thought it would make you a bit more comfortable."

"Thanks," Niamh said with a smile as she pulled the blanket around herself. Before she could ask any more questions, a doctor stepped into the room.

"So, you're finally awake," He said.

"Who are you?" Niamh asked.

"Dr. Calloway. I was the one who admitted you. And, now that you're awake I can finally examine you."

Niamh raised an eyebrow as he flipped through her information.

"Miss Cranitch, is it?"

Niamh nodded.

"Very well then, Miss Cranitch. I need you to sit up properly."

Niamh did as she was told and sat up fully, knowing that it was best to obey rather than argue.

Dr. Calloway stepped over and glanced at Nick. "Do you need to be here?"

"He's my boyfriend. Let him stay, please?"

Dr. Calloway simply nodded and pressed his stethoscope to Niamh's back. "Take a deep breath," He ordered.

She did so and he moved it over to her other side.

"Again," He ordered and she repeated the motion. He then wrote something down and moved to her chest.

Though Nick knew he was doing nothing more than checking her heartbeat, he couldn't help the surge of jealously that went through him at the sight of the doctor's hands so close to her breasts.

Dr. Calloway took a few more notes, and after he finished the quick, physical exam he began to ask questions. "I know you were brought in for your fever, but, what about your other symptoms?"

"I have this horrid cough and a headache. I sneeze occasionally, but it's not really a bother. And, I'm pretty sure I'm congested," Niamh said.

"Anything else?"

She sat back and thought for a minute, then she said, "I had some nausea last night and spent some time vomiting this morning."

"I have a general idea of what it may be, but to be sure you'll have a blood test done tomorrow morning."

"You want me to come back in?"

"Did no one tell you? You're staying overnight for observation. We have to make sure your fever stays down, your symptoms don't get worse, things of that nature."

Niamh nodded, staring at her hands as she did so. She had absolutely no interest in staying, but knew she was stuck. She then raised her head to speak, but ended up coughing instead.

"You're definitely congested," Dr. Calloway said as he wrote down a few more things.

"How can you tell?" Nick asked, earning an annoyed look from the doctor.

"You can tell by her cough," He replied in an aggravated tone. "For now, get some rest. I'll be back in the morning." At that, he left.

As soon as he was gone, Niamh turned to Nick and asked, "So, what happened, exactly?"

Nick didn't answer right away. He moved to the other side of the bed, and moved one of the chairs to her side so they could talk. "Martha came to see you," He started as he sat. "She wanted to wake you, but stopped when she touched you. She ordered me to get a thermometer and that's when she got you up."

"I remember that."

"She said we had to take you to the hospital, because all of the family physicians were closed. She made me carry you, so we had to take a cab. After we got here, Martha had one hell of an argument with the receptionist."

"Why?"

"The woman was stupid and quite rude. She almost refused to look up your information because she thought Martha's rushed tone was rude and unnecessary, even though it was clear she was simply worried and _not_ trying to be rude. She tried to sound intelligent and Martha threatened the law on her."

Niamh laughed. "That sounds like Martha."

"It was a nice little show, actually. Then Calloway came out and settled everything. I don't know what happened after they took you in to be examined. They made Martha and I wait in the lobby and didn't let us see you until they put you in this room. While we were waiting for you to wake up I went back to my flat and picked up the blanket for you."

"What are my parents doing here?" She asked as she pulled the blanket closer to her.

"Martha called them. After you were admitted, we were told that your family would have to be informed and she found it easier to tell them herself."

Niamh simply nodded and laid back down and yawned, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

"Sleep," Nick ordered.

"That's all I've been doing."

"Just rest then, I'll be back." He gently rubbed her shoulder and left the room to find Martha looking over part of a brief on a bench, trying to ignore the argument next to her.

"Now, I really don't think that's…" Valerie was saying to Stephen.

"Well, I _do_. We can't leave her alone, not in a place like this! If even one thing goes wrong she could get worse, or die!" Stephen argued.

"Stop being dramatic!"

"I'm not. I have seen the results of malpractice myself!"

"Oh, don't bring that up, _again_."

"What's going on?" Nick whispered to Martha.

"Judge Cranitch doesn't want to leave Niamh alone overnight. He doesn't trust hospitals," Martha explained as she flipped a page.

"Why not?"

Martha shrugged and wrote something in the margin on the page.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was in my handbag. It's only a listing of previous. I needed a distraction." She set it down. "How's Niamh?"

"She went back to sleep."

"If I have to hear about _one _more case I swear…" Valerie practically shouted, interrupting their conversation.

"I better do something about this," Martha sighed and stood. "What is _wrong_ with you two?"

"I don't believe anything is wrong with wanting to protect my daughter!" Stephen retorted.

"He seems to think that the hospital is going to kill her," Valerie said.

"There is always a chance."

"It's not like she's undergoing major surgery! She has a _fever_!"

"_Stop_!" Martha snapped. "Let me make sure I have this correct." She turned to Stephen. "_You_ don't trust the hospital and are worried for Niamh's safety and _you_…" She looked at Valerie. "Think he is being ridiculous."

"Exactly," Stephen said.

Martha sighed. "What is it that you wish to _do_? Get her discharged prematurely?"

"I simply suggested that someone stay with her."

"Why? She's not a child," Valerie said.

"To keep an eye on things. How the doctors treat her, the nurses' behaviour, that sort of thing."

"You know very well that it is not possible. I have a breakfast to cater tomorrow morning and you have a trial. Besides, it's against hospital rules!"

"I can easily hand the trial over to someone else. And, there can be exceptions to the rules. All I have to do is speak with the ward supervisor."

"I know very well that you think it wrong to leave a trial, especially in the middle!"

"Bail out of breakfast then!"

"I can't do that! I have not been planning with this client for two months to stop it now!"

"If you think that…"

"I'll do it," Martha interrupted.

"What?" Stephen asked, turning to her.

"I'll stay with Niamh overnight. My trial isn't until one, and I'm sure she'll be discharged before then. You'll just have to allow me some time to pick up a few items from my flat."

"I appreciate it, Ms. Costello, but you don't _have_ to do this," Valerie said.

"It's fine. I want to, if it'll make things easier, that is."

"Are you sure about this?"

Martha nodded.

"Very well then, thank you Ms. Costello," Stephen said. "How long do you think you'll need?"

"An hour at most. I just need a few things."

"Go then, we'll stay until you get back. I must speak with the ward supervisor anyway."

Martha nodded and walked off with Nick following.

"You know, I could've stayed instead," Nick said.

"You didn't say anything. Besides, I don't think Judge Cranitch would appreciate his daughter's _boyfriend_ staying with her in a hospital overnight."

"And what does that mean? That I can't be trusted?"

"Not at all. It's just…" Martha stopped walking and turned. "You see how he is. He already doesn't trust hospitals, and having you stay might make the situation worse. It's not that you're not trustworthy, you are. But, you _know_ how fathers are about their daughter's boyfriends and privacy and all that."

Nick nodded, finally understanding what she was getting at. "I know, my father is a bit protective of my sister with that sort of thing. For the longest time he wouldn't let her even visit her boyfriends at night."

"And it's because of that attitude that you're not staying."

At that, they came to the lift and Nick turned back, leaving Martha to head off alone. She wasted no time once the wait for the bus was over. Her first stop was Niamh's block of flats, as her car was in its car park. She then took the car back to her own flat, threw together a bag with a few of her things and headed back to the hospital. The whole journey took no more than forty-five minutes and, when she returned, she found Stephen talking with whom she assumed to be the ward supervisor, as he pointed her out at one point, and Valerie at Niamh's bedside.

"What are you doing?" Martha asked as she entered the room.

"Watching her."

"She's sleeping."

"I like to watch her sleep, always have. I would check on her every night until she moved out, just to make sure she was alright. She's always looked peaceful and cute in sleep."

Martha didn't know how to respond and simply set her brief on the small table in the room, as soon as she did, Stephen motioned Valerie into the hall and Nick came in. He stood, watching Niamh a moment, and then gently shook her awake.

"Niamh…" He whispered.

After a moment, Niamh opened her eyes and looked up at him. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to, her eyes asked the question for her.

"I'm leaving now," He said, setting a hand on her cheek.

Niamh gripped his hand with her own. She didn't want him to leave. She wanted him to stay with her, watch her, _hold_ her.

"But, I _promise_ I'll stop by tomorrow. Ring me as soon as you're discharged."

"Do you _have _to leave?" She asked.

Nick nodded. "Martha will be here, though."

Niamh simply nodded in response.

Nick gave her a small smile and a gentle kiss on the forehead before leaving. He was followed by Valerie, who, after having a word with her husband, also wanted to say goodbye to Niamh. Stephen followed and stood in front of Martha.

"I spoke with the ward supervisor, and he's given permission for you to stay based on my proposition," He said.

Martha nodded to him and watched as he too, bid Niamh farewell and then left with his wife. The moment she left, a nurse came in to check on Niamh and looked at Martha suspiciously.

"Visiting hours are _over_," She said sternly.

"I am authorized to be here," Martha stated.

"If you are not part of her family than you don't need to be here!"

Before Martha could speak, Stephen, who had overheard the exchange stepped into the room, "Listen to _me_," He told the nurse. "I am the patient's father and I give my permission for Ms. Costello to act in my place as guardian."

"_No_. First off, she's not part of the family, second, there are _rules_."

"And, there are also exceptions to these rules. I have spoken with your supervisor and he approves."

"Oh, really? I'll go get him then."

"You do that," Stephen said as the woman left.

She soon came back with the nurse in charge of the ward, who informed her of the exception and warned her both about her tone and her questioning of his approvals.

Defeated, the nurse sighed, "Fine…She can stay as long as she's out of the way." She muttered.

"Thank you," Stephen nodded to the supervisor. "I apologize for bothering you again."

"It is no problem, and certainly nothing out of the ordinary."

"Thanks again," Stephen said, then he turned and he and the supervisor went their separate ways.

'_Well, that was stupid,' _Martha thought as she began to read over her brief, but she stopped after only a few moments and glanced at the clock, suddenly remembering something.

"Niamh," She said, gently shaking her awake. "Niamh…"

"Martha? What…are you doing here?" Niamh asked sleepily.

"Your father wanted someone to stay with you overnight. He doesn't trust the hospital."

"Of course," Niamh said with an eye roll.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Around noon, why?"

Martha sighed. "You _need_ to eat. Would you mind if I got you something?"

Niamh shook her head and laid back down. Part of her wanted to get out of bed, to do _something_ useful, but the other part didn't. It told her to stay because she needed to rest.

Martha gave her a quick glance and left the room, only to be stopped by the ward supervisor halfway down the hall.

"Wait!" He said.

"What _now_?" Martha sighed.

"You need this." He handed her a card. "It states that under certain circumstances that you're allowed to be here. Keep it with your visitor pass. It'll prevent questions."

"Thank you," Martha nodded to him and continued on her way, while, in her room, Niamh finally forced herself up. She wasn't all that tired and quiet bored. She wished she had a book or even a brief to keep her busy, but all she had was the television. With a sigh she picked up the remote off the table by the bedside and flipped through the five channels, soon giving up and just settling on something. However, after a few minutes she grew bored with it and dozed off, only to be awoken by Martha again.

"Sit up," She ordered as she set a platter on the bed tray. "You need to eat."

"You said that already," Niamh said as she sat up and quickly situated herself.

"It's true. You're sick and need to keep your strength up to get better," Martha said as she sat back down.

Niamh sighed and looked over the food, not that there was much to look at. Given that it was hospital food, she didn't expect much of it to begin with. It was far too plain for her taste and she simply picked at it, as, it was starting to make her feel sick. Finally, she said. "I am _not_ eating this."

"Niamh…" Martha sighed.

"_No_," Niamh said sternly, as she pushed the tray away.

"You're acting like a child."

"A child would more than likely throw a fit. I am simply stating my refusal."

"You have to eat."

"No, I don't. I'm not hungry and the food nauseates me. I'm going to bed for the night." At that, Niamh simply laid down, pulled the lavender blanket around herself and turned away from Martha, closing her eyes in hopes of actually sleeping.

'_Be that way,' _Martha thought as she stood and took the tray. _'I'll eat it then.' _She pushed her brief aside and set the tray where it had been. Though it wasn't the best thing she'd ever eaten, it was edible, and she was too hungry to care, as, she hadn't eaten since breakfast. After she was done with it, Martha turned off the telly and shut off one section of the lights before continuing with her brief, stopping when a nurse came in to look at Niamh. She watched her closely, as if examining her for evidence, and once she left, they weren't bothered again until the following morning.

At eight AM sharp, Dr. Calloway walked into a rather amusing sight. While Niamh lay in bed, clutching her blanket to her chest, Martha sat, asleep with her head resting on her arms, which were resting on her brief. After staring for a moment, he walked over and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Miss?"

Almost immediately, Martha's head shot up. She quickly whipped her head around and stared at the doctor almost guiltily, as if she'd been caught doing something wrong.

"I apologize if I startled you."

"No. It…It's fine," Martha said with a wave of her hand.

"I hate to move you so soon after you've woken up, but I need to examine the patient and…"

"It's alright. You're just doing your job." Martha stood and stretched. "I'll be out in the waiting area." She started to leave, but turned around in the doorway. "By the way, the 'patient' _has_ a name."

As soon as she was gone, Calloway rolled his eyes and began to look through Niamh's medical chart.

Though she intended to head to the waiting area, once outside, Martha found herself face-to-face with Nick, who was leaning against the wall.

"You're not allowed to wait in the hall," She pointed out.

"The doctor said it was fine. He said it would only take a few minutes."

Martha nodded and joined him.

"You look tired," He said.

"I am. A brief really isn't a comfortable pillow."

Nick gave a small laugh while, in the room, Dr. Calloway tried to coax Niamh awake by shaking her. It took awhile, but eventually she turned and looked at him.

"Good morning, Miss Cranitch."

Niamh ignored him and laid her head back down.

Calloway sighed and shook her again. "I need to examine you."

Niamh sat up with a sigh that quickly delved into a coughing fit while Calloway unlocked one of the drawers on the counter in the room.

"Hold your arm out," He ordered, turning around with a needle in hand.

Niamh did as she was told, ignoring the needle, as, she was too tired to think of it.

He stepped forward, and after searching for and finding a vein, tied a band around her arm. "Ready?" He asked, receiving a tired nod in response.

Niamh let out a small gasp of pain with the needle pierced her arm. With the pain came a few tears, and she decided that this was definitely the _worst_ wakeup call she'd ever had.

Out in the hall, Nick tried to enter the room, having seen what happened through the crack in the door, but Martha stopped him.

"Don't," She said, grabbing his arm.

"He's torturing her!"

"It's just a blood test!"

"I'll send this downstairs to the lab and you should get your results in an hour or so. Once we diagnose you, you'll be discharged," Calloway explained to Niamh as he bandaged her arm.

"I thought blood tests took longer than that."

"Some do, but since we can process on site, it won't take long."

Niamh simply nodded as he left. Once in the hall, he explained the process to Martha, who then walked off to call and inform Stephen of the test while Nick went into her room and wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you alright?"

"I' m alright…For the most part."

"You're crying," Nick said, wiping away a tear.

"Oh…That's nothing. Just a little expression of pain."

"Are you sure?"

"Stop worrying. You sound like my mum."

"Actually, I thought your father was the worrier. He did demand someone watch you overnight."

She simply shrugged as Martha stepped back into the room and handed over her mobile. "Your father wants to speak to you."

"Papa?" Niamh asked, listening afterwards. She didn't speak much, but nodded a lot and simply said "okay," "yes," and, "I _know_." She sighed once she hung up and nearly threw the phone across the room until she remembered that it was Martha's and handed it back. "You're right," She said to Nick. "He _is_ the worrier."

Nick smile and leaned over to kiss her head.

"Don't you have to go to chambers?" Niamh asked.

"No, Billy didn't give me anything for today and the second day of the trial was postponed until tomorrow because of witness issues. Instead, I'm due for a babysitting job at ten."

"You _can't_ be serious!" Martha said from behind. "Babysitting?"

"I need the money, and Jonny's a good kid…Most of the time. I'm just glad I get to give him back to the neighbours when I'm done."

Niamh gave a small laugh and coughed again.

Nick gave her a sympathetic smile and moved a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Stop it," Niamh said, slapping his hand away.

"Okay. I can take a hint. I'll ring you later," Nick said as he stood.

Niamh simply nodded to him and pulled her knees to her chest, then, she laid her head on them.

"You okay?" Martha asked.

"My headache is back."

Martha moved to sit on the bed and gently rubbed Niamh's back. "Would you like me to get you something? I'm going to go get some tea."

Niamh shook her head.

"Alright then, I'll be back soon."

Niamh ignored her, and sat back once she left, praying that the headache would go away soon. She thought about turning on the television but figured that it would annoy her and simply sat, bored out of her mind.

Martha returned a few minutes later and handed her, of all things, an orange ice pop. "I know you said not to get you anything, but I thought it would help with your throat."

"How…?"

"Coughing that much has to take a toll on you," Martha shrugged as she sat with her teacup in hand.

"Can I help with anything?" Niamh asked, looking at the brief.

"No. I can handle it. You should rest."

"That's all I've been doing and I'm sick of it! Please, let me do something."

"Alright, sit," Martha motioned to the chair.

Niamh started to get up, but, as if she suddenly realized something, Martha stopped her.

"Hold on," She said, digging through the bag she'd brought. She set Niamh's slippers in front of her and nodded. "Now you can get up, this floor is far too cold for you to be stepping on barefoot."

Niamh nodded and got up, moving to the second chair in the room. "What is it?"

"Kidnapping. You can look at the unused," Martha handed her a binder, and, after ten minutes of working, suddenly asked, "Do you want something for breakfast? You haven't eaten since yesterday."

"No. Not from here. I'll eat when I go home."

Martha simply nodded and they spent a good hour looking through the brief and discussing the case until Calloway returned with a paper in hand.

"Miss Cranitch?" He said.

Niamh looked up from her notes.

"Your test confirmed what I had suspected. You have influenza."

"You're kidding, right?" Niamh asked. There was no way it was that, it couldn't be. It would mean she'd be out of chambers for days.

"You act as if it's something deadly. Granted, it _can_ be in certain circumstances, but this is not one," Calloway said as he wrote something down. "You've been discharged and I'm going to prescribe you something for your symptoms. I recommend you avoid going out and overworking yourself," He said, eyeing Martha's brief. "I'm sure you know the rest. Get some sleep, eat well, and take the medication as instructed and you should be fine in about a week."

Niamh groaned as he handed her the prescription slip.

"Good day, Miss."

"Let's get you dressed so we can leave," Martha suggested. "I brought you an outfit."

Niamh nodded and took the bag Martha handed her. She closed the door to the room and quickly changed. The outfit was simple and consisted of a pair of dark jeans, a ruffled, violet blouse and black boots, covered by her usual, black jacket. She then collected the rest of her belongings and left with Martha, who dropped her off at the pharmacy near her block of flats rather than the block itself.

"Thank you, for everything," Niamh said. "Taking me there, looking after me…all of it."

"You're welcome. Is there anything else you need?"

Niamh shook her head. "No. I just want to get this medication and go home, though, I'd prefer to be in chambers."

"You know very well that you can't go. I'll inform Billy for you, so he won't send you anything."

"Thanks," Niamh muttered as she got out of the car and went inside. She wandered the shop as she waited for the prescription to be filled and ended up leaving with it and a few over-the-counter remedies to keep at home for future use.

Once she entered her flat, she took a shower and changed into a dark-purple nightshirt printed with "Angel" in silver lettering. Afterwards, she made up her mind to eat, and per his instructions, rang Nick as she cooked to tell him she was discharged. She did the same with her father and with a sigh, tried to figure out how to amuse herself for the day. She ended up alternating between watching television and reading for three hours before taking a nap, only to be woken up and hour later by a knock. She expected to see Nick or Martha when she answered, but was met with another face instead.

"Mum? What are you doing here?" She asked.

"What are you doing up? You should be in bed," Valerie said, letting herself in.

'_Why does everyone feel the need to let themselves in? What if I don't want you here?'_ Niamh thought as she closed the door. "I can't answer the door if I don't get up," She pointed out, ending with a sneeze.

"Come on, you need to lie down," Valerie said, quickly ushering her into the bedroom.

"Mum, I can take care of myself," Niamh insisted as she climbed into bed.

"If you could take care of yourself, you wouldn't have gone to the hospital."

"_Mum_!"

"No arguing. You sleep and I'll make you something to eat."

"I ate when I came home!"

"That was hours ago. You need to keep eating if you want to get better," Valerie insisted, then, without another word, she headed into the kitchen.

Niamh groaned and sank back into her pillows and threw one of the heart shaped ones across the room in frustration. _'I'm twenty-one! I think I can take care of myself!' _She thought bitterly, but, knowing she couldn't argue with her mum, she simply laid back down.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Valerie used the ingredients she had bought to throw together a quick, vegetable soup. As it boiled, she decided to make a sandwich to go with it and then began to rummage through the cupboards for dishes. The only thing she couldn't find was a tray to put the food on and went to see Niamh.

"Niamh?" She whispered as she shook her awake, as she had dozed off.

"What?"

"I can't find your tray, there's no way for me to serve the soup without it."

"I don't have one. Just put it in a mug. That's what Nick did."

"Nick made you soup?"

"Kind of…He heated up some that I saved in the freezer," Niamh replied as she laid her head back down.

Valerie smiled and left again, soon coming back with Niamh's favourite, violet mug and the sandwich plate in hand. After getting her up, she practically thrust the cup into Niamh's hands and set the plate on the nightstand.

"Eat what you can," She instructed, walking about and picking up stray objects on Niamh's floor. Most of them were clothes she had changed out of before and not yet put away, being too tired to do so.

"You don't have to clean my bedroom. I can do it myself," Niamh said as she sipped at the soup, thinking, _'She may be aggravating, but I have to admit, I missed her cooking.' _

"Look at this place. I thought you knew how to clean."

"I do, I just haven't gotten to it yet. I'm _sick_, remember?"

"Speaking of which, those pills on the counter…?"

"Prescribed by the doctor before I left. I'm supposed to take them twice a day with food and they've worked well so far. I'm not coughing as much and my throat has cleared a little."

"Don't talk, just eat," Valerie instructed, throwing the laundry into Niamh's basket.

Niamh sighed and obeyed as her mother left to clean her mess in the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, she followed and set her dishes in the sink, she then grabbed her laptop and had just sat down when Valerie snatched it from her.

"_No_! You're not doing anything with this while you're sick."

"Not even…"

"No. I know you. Using it leads to work and you're not allowed to be working."

Niamh groaned. She had half a mind to throw her mother out. While she loved her mum, she knew how to take care of herself didn't want to be fussed over, unless she was being pampered. _'Why can't she be like Nick and leave me to my own business?' _She thought with a sigh as she picked up the remote, deciding on the spot to watch another film. After searching through her collection, she decided on one of her few romantic comedies. She had wanted to watch a horror film at first but instead made up her mind to watch something easy and less frightening. A few minutes in, Valerie reappeared with Niamh's favourite blanket and pillows and set up the sofa so that she was comfortable. She then moved onto modifying menus for future events, finally leaving Niamh alone.

Niamh smiled at the quiet, grateful that her mum was finally backing off. She settled into her spot and coughed, knowing that the medicine was wearing off. Halfway through the film she felt a tap at her shoulder and was presented with another ice pop.

"Here, Angel."

"Oh, _Mum_," Niamh sighed.

"Sorry. It's habit."

"What's this?"

"What does it look like?"

Niamh sighed and sat back again, needing to eat it before it melted. _'At least it's strawberry,' _She thought, smiling once she tasted her favourite flavour.

Awhile later, Nick came by with a brief in hand.

"Is that mine?" Niamh asked hopefully.

"You're out until you get better, remember?" Nick reminded her as he set it down and nodded to Valerie, who had let him in. "Why is she here?" He whispered.

"She showed up around one and seems to think she has to take care of me."

"I actually brought this because I thought you could help me."

"Later," She said, nodding towards Valerie.

"What about her?"

"She doesn't want me working. She even took away my computer."

"In that case, why don't I do something for you?"

"What kind of something?"

"Move over," Nick said, motioning for her to move.

Niamh did so and he got behind her and took his hands to her shoulders.

She let out a low moan as he massaged her. "Where'd you get this idea?"

"My dad used to do this for my mum when she wasn't feeling well and then started using it on my sister when she was little."

Niamh let her fall back as she settled against his chest. "Aren't you afraid of getting sick?"

Nick shook his head. "I got my flu shot last month. My mum's been making me get one for years and she doesn't stop nagging until I do."

Niamh nodded and then suddenly said, "I'm bored. I can't do anything and I hate it."

"I know."

They sat in silence for awhile, and, once she assured that everything was okay, Valerie left, saying that she left extra ingredients for supper. The moment she left, they began work on the brief, with Niamh in charge of the unused and the DVD that came with it until she got too tired to work and sent Nick off, as, he was easier to get rid of than her mum. And, after throwing together a quick supper, she took her medication as instructed and went to bed.

She developed a routine over the next few days that helped keep her from getting bored. Valerie stopped by once more, but left her alone after that and, after a few days, she was met with an unexpected surprise.

"Billy?" She said when she answered the door. "What are you doing here?"

"They were too big to fit on the bike."

"_They_?!" Niamh said, her eyes widening when he brought in two briefs.

"The bottom half is reckless driving and the top half is kidnapping."

"_Two_ briefs, Billy?"

"I heard you were getting better and figured that you should catch up."

Niamh narrowed her eyes, not believing a word of it. "I'm still sick," She said, not believing that she was resorting to using her sickness as a defense.

"Nonsense. It's just a cold now, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"First trial is in two days at nine, the second is the same say at eleven. One of the clients is coming in tomorrow at eight." At that, Billy left.

'_He has got to be kidding! I'm not going to sleep at this rate and I really need to sleep!' _Niamh groaned and decided to ring Martha, hoping she could help. Unfortunately, she was double booked as well, leaving Niamh alone to handle her work.

Awhile later, Nick stood in the hall, gently rapping on the door. "Niamh?" He said, repeating her name when she didn't answer. He sighed and let himself in with the key she'd given him recently. He hated using it and told her he'd only do so if he had to. Once inside, he sighed at the sight of Niamh leaned over the coffee table, asleep on her paperwork.

"Niamh? Niamh…" He said, gently shaking her.

After a moment, Niamh's head shot up and she looked at the clock. Startled by the time, she quickly shuffled papers around and began writing notes again.

"Niamh…What is all this?!"

"Nick? How did you get in?"

He held up his key and she simply nodded. He then went over and flipped closed the top on one binder and then another, seeing the two labels. "Two briefs? Niamh! What the _hell_ are you thinking?!"

"It's Billy's idea of helping me play catch up after being out for five days," Niamh said with a small sniffle.

"You don't need this, you need to keep resting. You'll get sick again if you don't."

"On the other hand, I'll soon be out of money if I don't work," Niamh pointed out.

"Stop," Nick ordered, grabbing her writing hand. "You're obviously tired and need to rest. You can work on this tomorrow."

"What did you come here for?"

"To see how you were, and if you were up for a date. I brought food."

"Alright," Niamh nodded, finally noticing the plastic bag in his hand. "What kind of food?"

"Indian. I hope you don't mind."

She shook her head and they moved to her small dining table, rarely used since she often ate in the lounge when working.

They spent two hours together, mostly talking about Nick's work and the usual happenings at chambers, as Niamh was curious about them. After dinner, he helped a bit with her briefs before leaving to do his own.

"I…Guess I'll see you in chambers tomorrow," Nick said as he stood.

Niamh nodded. "I have to meet with one of my clients."

"Get some rest then." He leaned in to kiss her.

She stopped him by holding one of her hands up. "We can't. I'm still sick, remember?"

"Oh, right," Nick said, opting for a kiss on her head instead.

"I know. I want to kiss you too, but…Just wait a few days."

"Okay." At that, he left and Niamh went back to her work until she felt she had done enough and went to bed.

The following morning, she was glad to be able to go to chambers. While the two briefs were a bit ridiculous, she had grown tired of being home and was ready to go back to working. She left in a good mood, despite being a bit tired, and arrived an hour earlier than her con, giving her time to prepare their case a bit more.

"Niamh!"

She turned at her name and found Clive approaching her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I have a bit of a cold, but it's nearly gone."

"I heard you were in the hospital."

"It was nothing, just a high fever."

"In court today?"

"Tomorrow. I'm double booked."

"Oh, well…Glad you're better."

Niamh raised an eyebrow as he walked away and headed into her and Nick's room. He had yet to arrive, which was good for her because of the meeting. She sat down to work and was interrupted by Martha a half hour later.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"I'd be better if everyone would stop asking me that."

"We're just concerned. Have you seen Clive?"

Niamh nodded. "I saw him when I came in, and he acted a bit strange when I said I was double booked."

"He's trying to give someone his return because his other case has gotten bigger than planned and I can't take it because I'm doubled booked as well."

"You did that to yourself. You could have always said 'no.' You _are_ a QC."

"But I didn't want to. I'll let you get return to work. It's nice to have you back," Martha said, giving Niamh a quick hug before she left.

Niamh smiled and did as she was told, grateful to finally be allowed to work again.


	9. Caught

_**Caught**_

_**A/N: **_Okay, I'll admit it. The end of this is nothing but pointless smut. Back when I wrote it, I was just in a mood to write a sex scene and it happened. I considered cutting it out since most of my readers don't like this type of writing…But it's not the same without it. Nick and Niamh are a modern-day couple and not above random sex every once in a while. Also, I needed an interlude to show how everyone else in chambers starts finding out about Nick and Niamh's previously secret relationship. And, I know Clive might be out-of-character here, but it's just the shock and maybe a hint of jealously…

I'd also like to send out a note to the _**anonymous**_ readers I know are out there: Don't hesitate to drop me a review or two. I know this is not everyone's favourite story in this archive (in fact, I'm sure it's actually hated. _Heavily._ Why? Because it's far from canon and not about Martha and Clive…) But, some critique would be nice. I accept all types of critiques and don't mind answering questions if you have any. Please and Thank You.

* * *

_Timeline: Late January 2012, about two weeks after Niamh's hospitalization _

"You wanted to see me?" Clive asked as he stepped into the clerks' room.

"Ah, yes," Billy said, picking up a binder. "Just got this in and you're the only one free."

"Drug mule?"

Billy nodded. "You'll be co-defending with Miss Cranitch."

"_Niamh_?!" Clive gave him a look, wondering how he could give a case like this to a _baby_ barrister. While she was good, she wasn't sure if she was good enough to handle such a thing.

"What other Cranitch is there in chambers?" Billy said as he picked up a ringing phone.

Clive sighed and headed back to his room to begin looking it over, thinking that he'd talk to Niamh later when she returned from her current trial.

As soon as he got settled at his desk, Niamh arrived with Nick in tow, both having come from the _same_ trial, one as a prosecutor, the other the defense.

"You're _far_ better at that then I am," Nick said, holding open the door to their room.

"Far better at what?"

"Prosecution. I just…fumble through it."

"I don't like doing it," Niamh admitted. "I prefer to defend, but I figure it's best to try my hand at both. You did well too."

"After a lot of practice. I was up half the night preparing my defense."

"It paid off. You managed to get a light sentence for the client," Niamh said, sitting on the small sofa in the room. It was usually used for talking with clients, but she found it more comfortable than her desk and set her new brief on the table in front of it.

"What are you doing now?"

"Drug mule. There's two clients, but I haven't been told who my codefendant is." She quickly removed the ribbon and began to spread papers around as Nick leaned against an armchair watching her.

After a few minutes she looked up, "What?" She asked.

"Nothing. I just like watching you work. It's kind of…hot actually."

"What?" Niamh said again, this time with a laugh.

"This environment suits you, it's your element and I _love_ how you get so into it," Nick said, slowly approaching until he stood directly in front of her. He put a hand to her face and made her look up at him. "In fact, I thought you looked very _sexy_ in court today. I like it when you're fired up like that."

Niamh blushed a bit, and before she could say anything, Nick's lips met hers in a soft kiss, followed by another, then another.

He tangled a hand in her hair, trying his best not to muss her ponytail as their kisses deepened. And, before they knew it, they couldn't stop. It was as if the moment they did, the whole world would come crashing down.

Niamh set her hands on his chest, gasping as he began to fumble with the buttons on her dark, violet blouse. "What are you doing?" She gasped in between kisses.

"I want to touch you," He whispered, tempted to simply rip the blouse and the rest of her clothes away. However, he knew he couldn't-not in chambers, but that minor restriction wasn't going to stop him from getting to some of her skin.

"Nick! What if we get caught?"

"We won't," He assured her, pulling her back for another kiss and he flipped another button open. He then let his hand wander over her bare shoulder and down to the cups of her lacy, lavender bra. His lips, however, stayed on hers, only straying to her neck once or twice.

Though Niamh knew the whole situation was wrong, she couldn't stop herself from being sucked into it and tugged on his tie. If he was going to touch her, she wanted to return the favor. She then stopped for a moment and gasped when she felt his hand travel underneath her bra to caress her bare breast. She moaned against his lips and pulled him closer, soon letting out a small squeal when he gently pinched her nipple.

'_God…I want you…' _Nick thought, extremely tempted to give into his earlier thoughts to rip her clothes off as he tugged at one of her bra straps, ultimately deciding to leave it alone in favour of kissing her more as he switched hands, putting the one that was on her chest into her hair and vice versa.

They go so into each other that neither noticed the door open. "Niamh, about this case. I was thinking that if we…" Clive stepped into the room, stopping dead in his tracks and promptly dropping the papers in his hands. Nick and Niamh's recent closeness had made him suspicious, but he never once imagined them doing what he was seeing. For God's sake! They were practically fucking in chambers. Finally, he spoke, saying, "What the _hell_?!"

Breaking their kiss, they both turned to him, Niamh gasping in embarrassment and mortification as she quickly tried to adjust her top.

"Clive! T…This…Isn't what it looks like!" She said, fumbling with buttons as she spoke.

"Not what it looks like, my arse," Clive snapped. "You were practically fucking!"

"Look, I can explain!" Niamh insisted as he turned and walked out. "_Clive_!" She called after him and then turned to Nick with a worried expression.

Clive made his way down the hall, unsure of where he wanted to go, but, he ultimately decided on Martha's room.

"You are not going to believe what I just saw!" He said as he threw the door open.

"What?" Martha sighed, looking up from her brief.

"Nick…and Niamh! They were all over each other! Kissing and touching and…practically fucking!" Clive snapped.

Martha ignored him and went on working, knowing she'd have to speak to them about engaging in such behaviour in chambers.

"You're not surprised?"

"No. I know," She said flatly, flipping a page in her brief.

"Know what?!"

"They're dating," Martha shrugged and picked up a highlighter.

"How long have you known?!"

"Three…Maybe four months."

"Does anyone else know?"

"No one as far as I know. They have no need to know anyway. It's Nick and Niamh's business, no one else's."

"It is when they're practically fucking in chambers!"

"I didn't see you complaining when it was _you_ showing Niamh affection within chambers."

"This is different! This is a conflict of interest."

"I fail to see why. I think they're smart enough to keep their personal and professional lives separate. They _have_ been doing so for a few months."

At that, Clive gave up and stomped out, frustrated by both the new revelation and Martha's nonexistent reaction. He didn't understand how she could be so calm about it! Even a hint of surprise would've been nice.

"Something wrong, sir?" Billy asked. He had been on his way to see Martha when Clive crossed his path.

"Yes, actually, can we speak in private?" Clive asked.

Billy nodded, figuring the message from the Solicitor could wait and led him into an empty room as Martha stepped into Nick and Niamh's.

"I need to speak with you," She said. "_Both_ of you."

"Clive told you," Niamh guessed.

"What the hell are you two thinking?! You're in _chambers_ not your bedroom!"

"We weren't doing anything like that," Nick insisted.

"You were practically fucking, Clive says."

"We were just kissing!" Niamh said.

"Don't lie."

"Don't look at me! He was the one who opened my blouse!"

Martha raised an eyebrow and glanced at Nick.

"I just wanted to touch you! And you didn't resist, Miss Cranitch!"

Martha sighed and proceeded to explain to them that, regardless of who was at fault, such behaviour was _far_ from acceptable in chambers. It was a professional place and nothing else.

"Now, personally, I find nothing wrong with a small kiss here and there, but you crossed the line this time and I would advise you not to so again. If you're not careful you're going to be kicked out!"

Both Nick and Niamh nodded in response and Martha left, needing to go back to her own work.

Meanwhile, after being interrupted by two phone calls, Billy finally turned to Clive.

"Sorry about that," He said.

Clive shrugged, knowing the calls were important to chambers.

"What was it you wanted to speak about?"

"It's about Nick and Niamh," Clive said calmly.

"What about them?"

"They're…together."

"Together?"

"As in boyfriend and girlfriend. They're dating."

Billy stopped a moment. He knew they had been getting closer and suspected something from their outing a two months ago. Unfortunately no one would tell him anything, so he gave up, hoping they'd slip up and apparently, they did. "I _knew_ it!" He said.

"What?"

"I _knew_ something was happening behind my back." His proud expression quickly turned suspicious, "Wait…How long have you known?"

Clive looked at his watch, "About ten minutes. Martha's known for months."

"So, she _is_ in on it? No wonder she wouldn't say anything. Did she tell you?"

"No. I…I went to speak to Niamh about a case and I saw them kissing and…he was touching her. It's completely inappropriate behaviour for chambers! What would everyone think if they knew, because one day, I know they're going to be caught by someone who's not us and far less understanding."

"You're right. I'll speak with them. Thank you." At that, Billy left and, forgetting what he was supposed to speak to Martha about, he headed to Nick and Niamh's room, where they were busy packing up for the day.

"Mr. Slade and Miss Cranitch, I need to speak with you. _Now_," He said once he opened the door, not bothering to knock.

Nick and Niamh exchanged a confused glance, knowing they had no choice.

"You lied to me," Billy started.

"About what?" Niamh asked.

"Don't play stupid. You lied about yourselves. You said there was nothing going on between you two and now I hear stories of you practically fucking in chambers!"

"Clive told you?" Nick guessed, giving up any hope of them lying their way out of it.

"Of course he told me. Nothing happens here without my knowledge, but you somehow outsmarted me. But, that's not what I'm here about. What gave you the idea that such behaviour was acceptable in _chambers_?! What if it hadn't been Clive? What if it was the head of chambers? Or worse, a solicitor?! Do you know how bad I'd…I mean, chambers would look?"

"Martha already gave us this lecture, so can we skip to the part where we get punished?" Nick asked, only to be elbowed by Niamh.

"I don't care what Ms. Costello told you. She's not in charge, _I am_. Aside from being inappropriate, it's a conflict of interest!"

"_How_?!" Niamh snapped. "Just because we're together doesn't mean we're stupid enough to let our feelings affect our work! We battle it out in court all the time and think nothing of it! It's just part of the job. You don't have a problem with us going up against anyone else in chambers!"

"You're not dating everyone else!" Billy snapped back.

"_Niamh_!" Nick hissed, tugging on her sleeve. "You might want to stop, now."

"No!" She snapped, slapping his hand away. "I'm not finished! Why do you _care_ if we're together, anyway?! It doesn't affect your life nor is it a threat to chambers! You're just worried about your stupid reputation! I don't think any of our solicitors would care and we do not need to tell them! It's _our_ business-Nick's and mine-_no one else's_!" She stood, arms crossed, waiting for him to challenge her while Nick stood in the background.

He had no problem going up in front of judges or even, Martha as he had done once, but Billy was another matter. He held their careers in his hands and he felt that it was better to stay on his good side. Part of him told her to stop her before she got kicked out, but the other part overruled him-the part that said she was right and looked _damn_ sexy when she was fired up. He loved seeing her rise to challenges, and thought her boldness was hot, he just hoped she'd never use it against him.

"Alright. I'll keep it between us as long as you promise that it won't interfere with your work in anyway. If it starts to, I won't hesitate to kick either of you out."

"Then you'll have to kick both of us out," Nick said. "If she goes, I go."

"Same here," Niamh nodded.

"Fine. You just remember that for later." At that, Billy left and decided to see Martha, suddenly remembering the message from the solicitor. _'Let's see how long they last when it actually happens…' _He thought with a smirk.

As soon as he was gone, Niamh slipped on her coat and threw Nick his. "Come on. We have to get started on our briefs."

Nick nodded and slipped on his own jacket as Niamh picked up her handbag and briefcase.

"Are we still going to your flat?" She asked as they stepped out the door.

"Sure," Nick shrugged and Niamh grabbed his hand as they walked off. They decided to walk the whole way rather than taking the bus or the underground, despite the cold. The walk took a half hour, and once they stepped into his flat, Niamh dropped her bags on the table and threw her coat off, while Nick simply dropped everything in the doorway.

"Since your case is minor, can you help with mine?" Niamh asked, stepping away from the table to slip her shoes off.

"I've got a better idea," Nick said, stepping toward her. "Why don't we finish what we started in chambers?"

Before she could protest, Nick pulled her towards him and captured her with a deep, hard kiss that she eagerly returned. She gently bit at his lower lip, hoping to deepen it when he suddenly stopped. "Wait," He said, grabbing his briefcase. After some quick searching, he found what he was looking for and threw a condom on his end table. Then, he grabbed Niamh and kissed her again.

"You always keep that with you?" She whispered in between kisses as she boosted herself up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Just in case," Nick replied as he carried and lowered her to the sofa, pulling of her blazer moments before he did so. He then captured her in a series of kisses that grew deeper with each passing second as he tugged at and pulled out her hair clip, letting her hair fall free against her shoulders.

Once again, she bit at his lip, gently at first and then harder, finally getting what she wanted as their tongues met, both of them trying to gain dominance. Ultimately, Nick won and took control of the kiss as he took his hands to her blouse, tugging at the buttons just as he had done before and resisting the urge to simply rip it off.

Niamh took her own hands to his clothes, first tugging at and pulling off his blazer and then tie. She too, had to resist the urge to rip his shirt off as she fumbled with the buttons. She had already ruined two of his good shirts that way and wasn't interested in adding more to that number.

Unlike earlier, there was no holding back and all of the buttons came undone.

Niamh moaned as he moved down her neck, pulling her blouse off as he did so and soon throwing it aside as she managed to finally get the last button of his shirt undone. He helped by throwing it off himself and then kissed her again, discreetly moving his hand up one of her legs.

"Are these stockings or tights?" He asked.

"Stockings…why?" She responded in between kisses and gasps.

"Just wondering," He said teasingly, then, he kissed her again found the hem of one of the stockings and eased it off of her. He then did the same with the other and then found himself being pulled back as Niamh took control of their next kiss.

She wanted desperately to flip him over and take charge, but knew that it wasn't possible while they were on the sofa due to a lack of room, so she settled for this. She took her hands to his chest and ran them up and down his body, gently raking him with her nails and relishing in the groans she received in response. When she took her hands to his back, he broke away and moved back down her neck.

He slid a hand under her back as she arched against him in delight and found and unhooked her bra, which was carelessly thrown to the side once he eased the straps off her shoulders, finally revealing her to him. He was quick to claim her, drawing the nipple on her right breast into his mouth to suck on it as he fondled the other, teasing that nipple with his thumb.

Niamh moaned in response and then gasped at the tiny, intimate kisses he placed on her breast before moving onto the next, giving it the same treatment as the first.

Nick then came back up to kiss her lips and took his hands to her skirt. After a bit of fumbling, he managed to find the zipper and practically ripped the garment from her, then used his hands to tease the edges of lavender-coloured lace that made up her panties.

"No…Not yet," She gasped, taking her hands to his trousers. "I want you naked first."

"And if I say no?" Nick teased, ending with a light kiss.

"You don't have a choice," Niamh hissed as she quickly undid his belt.

'_God, I love it when you talk like that…' _He thought, not wanting to say it out loud. He helped her with her task of stripping him and proceeded to pull the last, small garment from her body, throwing it with the rest of their clothes.

They both wished they had a bit more room to do what they liked.

'_But, since we don't….this will do,' _Nick thought as he kissed her again, his right hand slipping between her legs.

She let out a long, breathy moan in response as he slid two fingers inside of her while using his thumb to stimulate her.

He smiled at her reactions, desperately wanting to see her break for him.

"Now. Now, now, _now_," Niamh gasped, urgently pressing herself against him demandingly before letting out a small cry as the orgasm hit her. Hard. She clawed at his back, enticing and begging him with her actions and a series of small, sensual gasps.

He couldn't resist, and, with another kiss reached over her. Two seconds later, he had the condom in hand, and three seconds later, he was sheathed and ready.

When he entered her, she came again, just as hard as the first time. She cried out again, only to be cut off by a kiss, his way of telling her to be quiet. He struggled to do the same as the sensations grew more intense. He could see the pleasure in her eyes and relished it, knowing he was the cause and groaned at the feel of her nails on his back once more, of her legs winding around his waist.

She gave as good as she got, and wanted to tell him…something, anything, but all that would form was his name.

The deeper he went, the higher she rose and, when his mobile rang, the only thing they heard was the frantic beating of each other's hearts.

It wasn't long before they reached a hot, heavy climax, his first, followed by her third.

Niamh turned her head once he collapsed on top of her, and once their breathing steadied a bit, she pushed him off and sat up.

"You can't know how you look," Nick said with a small laugh.

"I would assume that I look like a woman who just had sex on a sofa."

"A very _hot_ woman who just had sex on a sofa," He said, leaning in to kiss her again.

"Answer your mobile," She ordered. "I have to get to work."

"Or, you could leave the brief there and we could take this into the bedroom."

"Do I have a choice?"

"_No_!" Nick said as he picked her up and carried her off.

They didn't get to their work until after six, leaving Niamh little time to prepare, as, her trial was at ten the next morning.

"This is all your fault." She muttered as she took notes.

"I don't remember you resisting," He replied, setting a sandwich plate in front of her.

"Thanks."

"I hope you don't mind peanut butter and jam. I'm overdue for shopping and don't have much."

"What kind of jam?"

"Strawberry."

Niamh shrugged and picked up half of the sandwich, not caring about manners as she alternated between eating and working at Nick's coffee table.

He did the same on the floor, and they worked for an hour or so before Niamh decided to leave.

"Would you like me to walk with you?" Nick asked.

"You've wasted enough time and I can handle myself. Thank you though," Niamh said, nodding as she left.

Nick shook his head as she left, wondering what the hell he was going to do with her and hoping that his procrastination was not part of the whole not letting his personal life affect his work deal.

'_I don't think so…I'm just behind…It doesn't mean I'm not going to do it,' _He decided as he flipped another page, knowing it was going to be a _long_ night.


	10. Black Tie Ball

_**Black Tie Ball**_

**A/N:** I have a feeling that this is where everyone is going to start ripping my head off. This chapter starts Martha's love story…Which we'll be exploring here and there after this update in between the usual Nick and Niamh stories. So, for those of you who want more Martha, because I know you exist, it's coming soon. Not much to say about this one other than that and that this is one of the ones that has a plotline that borders on stupid, but as I've said, just roll with it.

And, I know it's a bit too early to update, but this is one of my favourite stories in the lineup and I really, really wanted to share it with you guys. That being said, I'm going to beg here and say: **_Please review_**. I'm really, really anxious to know what people think of this one in particular.

* * *

_Timeline: Mid-February 2012, the 18-26 _

Niamh hummed to herself as she moved about the kitchen, getting the necessary materials to throw together a quick lunch. She then groaned when a knock interrupted her. She had been hoping to have the weekend to herself, not having gotten a brief-yet, and hoped that it wasn't anyone from chambers. She took in a breath before she answered to hide her aggravation and opened the door, surprised to see Valerie standing in front of her.

"Mum?" After looking her over in confusion, Niamh motioned her mother in, saying, "Come in. Do you want something to eat? I was in the middle of making lunch."

"I can't stay for long. I just came to give you something," Valerie said, holding out an envelope trimmed in gold.

"What is this?"

"Read it and see."

Niamh flipped it over first, looking for some sort of clue and then opened it, gasping when she pulled out an invitation, also trimmed with gold. "No…" She muttered as she read it over. It was an invitation in her name to the Lord Chief Justice's annual black tie ball. Niamh's parents had been attending since before she could remember, and finally invited her to come along when she was fifteen. Since then, she attended with them every year, minus the two during sixth form.

Valerie nodded. "It's that time again. They sent yours to us because they didn't know your new address."

"I had completely forgotten about this…"

"We go _every _year Niamh. You used to check the post constantly, waiting for it."

"I know, I've just been busy, I…" Niamh trailed off as she read the invitation over again and, suddenly struck with inspiration, she said, "Can I invite Nick?"

"I don't see why not. The rule has always been that other guests are welcome as long as it's noted in the RSVP and they're over seventeen."

"If that's always been then how did you get me in at fifteen?"

"You father asked permission and since Bob knew us, he was confident in your manners and said you could come if you behaved yourself, which, you did."

Niamh smiled and set the invitation on her coffee table as she headed into the kitchen. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I have an event at six. I only came to give you this," Valerie said, following her and then laughing at the setup.

"What?"

"Peanut butter and honey?"

"You _know_ it's my favourite!"

Valerie smiled. "On second thought, if you're making it, can I get one to go?"

Niamh laughed. "Fine. Just make yourself at home."

Valerie gave a small nod and sat in one of the chairs at the dining room table, watching Niamh as she worked, then, something caught her eye and she tilted her head to get a better look.

Niamh resumed her humming and looked up a moment. "What are you looking at?" She asked, curious about her mum's expression.

"You have a mark on your neck."

Niamh dropped her knife and immediately put her hand up to cover the mark in question on the right side as Valerie stood and walked over to her.

"Let me see!" She ordered as she pulled Niamh's hand away and then gave her daughter a sly, knowing smile. "Did Nick give it to you?"

"It's none of your business!" Niamh snapped as a blush crept up on her cheeks. She had gotten the love bite the previous night. She had invited Nick over, intending for him to just sleep over, but the lack of work and the long night were far too tempting to ignore. They ended up falling into bed at nine and didn't get to sleep until far after midnight.

"How do you hide that in chambers?" Valerie teased.

"Lots of makeup," Niamh replied as she finished the first sandwich and stepped away to search for her cling wrap. "It'll go away before the ball. Here, take your sandwich."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"You are the one who said you needed to leave."

"Fine…I'll see you soon, Angel," Valerie said, ending with a light kiss on Niamh's cheek.

"_Mum_!" Niamh groaned.

Valerie simply shrugged and left.

As soon as she was gone, Niamh picked up her mobile with the intention to call Nick, but immediately changed her mind. She decided to ask him out in person instead, thinking that it'd be a bit more personal. She then once again resumed her humming as she cleaned up her small mess and, after eating, she went on to the rest of her chores for the day. For once, she was happy to not have any work to do, as, it let her get some overdue cleaning completed. While doing the housework, she thought over and over again about how to approach Nick, and had finally made up her mind to simply be forward by the time she left for chambers on Monday. However, before she could look for him, Billy caught her attention.

"Reckless driving," He said, handing Niamh a binder.

"_Another_ one? Don't you have anything better? I want to do something exciting, like kidnapping or murder."

"Don't whine, just do it." He ordered as he walked off.

Niamh glared as he walked off and headed into her and Nick's room. She set the brief on her desk and sat to go through her handbag, smiling a little when she saw the invitation. She then pulled out a compact and double-checked her makeup, making sure her neck was well covered. Though most everyone in chambers knew about them now, she didn't want any unnecessary comments being thrown her way and felt it best to cover it. After seeing that she looked fine, she got to work on the brief.

She spent a good four hours looking over pages of details, taking notes and preparing part of the defense, growing impatient with each passing hour. _'Where is Nick?! I know he's not in court today. He better __**not**__ be playing sick!' _She thought a little bitterly as she shifted papers around. Then, noting the time, she picked her handbag up off the floor to search for something to eat and turned at the sound of the door opening. "Nick!"

"What?" Nick asked as he walked to his desk and set his own brief down.

"Where have you been?! I've been waiting since eight!"

"I had to help my sister with a project. I made the mistake of telling her I wasn't in court, so she dragged me to her school."

Niamh didn't respond, instead, she forgot about the food and quickly pulled out the invitation. "I…was waiting, because I…I wanted to ask you something," She said as she stood, holding the envelope to her chest.

"What?"

"Well…I…You see…Every year…" Niamh stuttered, thinking, _'Why am I so nervous all of a sudden? It's not like this is my first time asking him out! He's my boyfriend for Christ's sake!' _She took in a breath and started again. "The…the Lord Chief Justice throws a ball every year and I've been invited since I was fifteen. Usually I go with my parents but…I was wondering if…Maybe…Would _you_ be my date this year?"

Nick stepped back a moment, trying to process her words. He had heard about the ball from a few people in chambers, and had gathered that it was an important, black-tie event and that only a few select people were invited. He almost couldn't believe she was asking _him_ of all people to accompany her. This type of event was _far_ out of his league, and he knew he'd never fit in at it. Finally he said, "No."

"No?!" Niamh's heart dropped.

"Look, Niamh…This just isn't my thing. I wouldn't know how to handle myself and I'd never fit in. This kind of thing is just…way out of my hands."

"Okay," Niamh said after blinking a few times, trying to fight off her tears. Though she had never minded being rejected by him for dates before, this one stung. The others had never been _this_ important to her. "I'll just…go with my parents then."

"Niamh," Nick tried to set his hands on her shoulders, but she stepped away and started shuffling around the papers on her desk.

"I think I'll finish at home. See you later," She said as she quickly swept what she could into her briefcase before picking it, her handbag and jacket up. She left as quickly as she could, not wanting him to see her cry.

Nick simply looked down at his work as she left. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but it was clear that he had, though he didn't understand why. She had never had much of a problem with rejection before.

Niamh brushed the tears from her eyes as she walked and just missed running into Martha with an absent-minded turn.

"You okay?" Martha asked, stopping once she caught Niamh's expression.

"I'm fine, really. I just…"

"No you're not. Come with me."

Niamh gave a small nod, followed Martha into her room and took a seat on the sofa at her silent urging.

"Now, tell me. What's wrong?"

"The Lord Chief Justice's ball…" Niamh started.

"What about it?" Martha asked, gently moving a strand of hair out of Niamh's face.

"My family goes every year…It's a big thing for us. And…I asked Nick, but he doesn't want to be my date! I know I shouldn't be upset, but…"

"It's alright," Martha said, setting a hand on her shoulder. "This is important to you. It's a tradition you've had for years that you wanted to share."

Niamh nodded.

"Did he give you a reason why he doesn't want to attend?"

"He said it's not his 'thing' and that an event like this is out of his hands."

"I see," Martha said, thinking, _'That is __**no**__ reason for rejection! Just because he's never done black-tie before doesn't mean he can't!' _

Niamh took in a breath and wiped away the last, stray tear. "Thank you for listening," She said.

"Anytime. Now, where are you off to?"

"Home. I decided to finish my work there."

Martha simply nodded and watched at Niamh left, and, as soon as she was out of chambers, Martha got up and headed straight into her and Nick's room.

Nick looked up at the sound of the door opening. "Martha?" He asked.

Without saying a word, she made her way over to his desk and smacked him in the back of his head. "What is _wrong_ with you?!" She asked.

"What?" Nick rubbed the back of his head.

"Why did you reject Niamh's invitation to the ball?"

"She told you?"

"Answer the question."

"Black-tie just…isn't my thing. It's too formal for my taste and…I'd just embarrass her."

"That is the worst defense I've ever heard. I think you're old enough to know how to properly act at a formal event."

"Look, Martha I…"

"No. You listen to me. This event is really important to Niamh and has been for years. All she wanted to do was share it with you, and you turn her down for stupid reasons. You are going to _accept_ her invitation and attend that ball on Saturday."

"I don't know a thing about black-tie!"

"Then I'll help you. I've been invited as well, and since this is my first black tie event in about ten years, we can learn together."

"How did _you_ get invited?"

Martha shrugged. "That's not important. What's important is that you give Niamh a ring and tell her you're going. And, if you need a reason, just do it for _her_. She really wants you to go and I know she'll appreciate it."

Nick thought for a minute and finally sighed. "Alright. I'll go-for Niamh. To be honest, I'm a bit intrigued about it anyway."

"Good. I'd do it quickly. RSVPs must be in by tomorrow afternoon."

Nick nodded and turned back to his brief, thinking about what he'd say to Niamh when he did tell her about his acceptance. As he thought, he absent-mindedly worked on his defense while, at the same time, Niamh was heading up the street to her block of flats. When she finally stepped into her flat a half hour later, she put the brief on the coffee table and simply stared at it. After a moment, she decided that she didn't want to work anymore.

'_I can't do this…I don't want to do this and it's Nick's fault. I still don't know why this hurts so badly. Maybe I just need to rest…I did wake up a bit early,' _Niamh thought, then, with a sigh, she made up her mind to take a nap. She hoped that by doing so, she could shake off her twisted feelings, as they were affecting her will to work. She replaced her clothes with one of her pajama sets and climbed into bed, setting an alarm for two hours later shortly before she fell asleep, only to be woken up a half hour before the alarm by her mobile, which sat on her nightstand with the clock.

"Hello?" She asked sleepily, not bothering to look at the ID.

"Niamh?" Nick said. "It's me, I…"

Niamh hung up with a scowl and dropped her mobile next to her, wanting nothing to do with him, which made it clear that the nap hadn't worked.

Nick sighed and dialed again. _'I didn't spend a half hour pacing for nothing. She __**has**__ to listen to me!'_

"What?!" Niamh snapped a bit groggily when she answered.

"Niamh, are you alright? You don't sound well."

"I was taking a nap. You woke me up!"

"I'm sorry…I just…I…" Nick stuttered, nervously running his hand through his hair as he did so.

"_What_ do you want, Nick?"

"About the ball…I…I changed my mind."

Niamh raised an eyebrow, curious as to where this was going.

"I want to _accept_ your invitation."

"Really?" Niamh asked, all of her hurt feelings immediately leaving her. "What made you change your mind?" She asked.

"Martha. She said that she was invited and would help me."

She laughed. "Of course. Are you _sure_ you want to do this? I don't want to push you into anything."

"I want to do this. For _you_."

"Alright. I'll include you in the RSVP and give you the details tomorrow morning before we go to chambers. Can you come over for breakfast at seven thirty?"

"Sure."  
"Okay. See you then," At that, Niamh hung up and rose from bed after disabling her alarm. She threw on a simple outfit that consisted of only a pair of jeans and a black sweater and searched her handbag for the invitation, as it contained the RSVP number. Once she found it, she dialed and smiled when a familiar voice answered the phone.

"Hello?" A woman asked.

"Lynda? It's Niamh. Niamh Cranitch."

"Niamh! What a nice surprise. How's life at the Barr treating you?"

"Depends on the week. I actually called to…"

"Accept your invitation to the ball?" Lynda guessed as she pulled up a document on the computer she had been working on.

"Yes and I'll be bringing a date."

"Okay then," Lynda said as she typed, balancing the phone between her head and shoulder. "What's your date's name, Sweetheart?"

"Nick-I mean _Nicholas_ Slade."

"I think this is the first time you've ever brought someone with you."

"It is." Niamh admitted, she had never thought to bring any other guys. She only had three serious boyfriends before Nick, and never would have thought of even asking them. She had gotten together and broken up with the first two far before the ball and the last one had left her after only a month simply because he didn't want to have dinner with her parents.

"He must be special then. I can't wait to meet him."

"Kind of. I look forward to seeing you Saturday evening."

"Likewise," Lynda said as a beep came over the line. "That's call waiting."

"It's okay; I'll catch up with you when I see you. Bye," Niamh hung up on her and then dialed Martha.

"Hello?" Martha answered as she flipped through a brief.

"Thank you, Martha," Niamh said.

"For what?"

"You _know_ what. For making Nick change his mind."

"He was being stupid."

Niamh laughed. "He tells me that you're invited too."

"I don't know if I'm going. It sounds nice, but I haven't been to a black-tie event in about ten years and I have _nothing_ to wear."

"Now _you're_ being stupid. It's a wonderful event and is an honor to even be considered for an invitation! There's an easy solution to your problem."

"And what would that be?"

"Shopping. You have to have _some_ extra money."

"I do but…"

"Good. We don't have much time so…When's your trial tomorrow?"

"Ten."

"Mine's at ten thirty, but we should both be done by noon. Why don't we go out for lunch and head off to some of the boutiques?"

"Niamh…I really don't…"

"You don't have a choice." Niamh hung up before she could protest.

Martha sighed. The truth was, she really did want to go. She was a bit wary about accepting and had been contemplating her decision all day, but now, it appeared that Niamh had decided for her, and she pulled out the invitation to RSVP.

Meanwhile, Nick sat in front of his laptop with three pages of research open. He knew nothing about black tie and quickly surfed pages on attire and mannerism, cringing at the prices of the dinner suits. Feeling defeated, he picked up his mobile and dialed, smiling when he got exactly who he was looking for.

"Slade residence, Hope speaking," His mum said.

"Mum? It's me. I need a favour."

"It's nice to finally hear from you! I was beginning to think you forgot about us."

"Mum, if I don't call, it means that everything is fine. I've told you this."

"How are you getting on? Still working on the side?"

"Here and there, but I've been getting steadier work lately."

"How's your sister?"

"I haven't seen her in a while, and that's good. It's better that she's not here creating fake drama."

Hope laughed. "She's always been a bit dramatic. Now, what's this favour?"

"I've been invited to a black-tie ball and I have no idea what to do about my attire. I don't have even a third of the money for a dinner suit."

"You can rent one for the night," Hope pointed out.

"I looked into that too, but there's so many options and…" Nick said, trying to find the right words in his flustered state.

"Wait," She interrupted. "Why are you going to a ball?"

"Niamh invited me. It's something the Lord Chief Justice does every year and she's been going since she was fifteen. I wouldn't do it for anyone but her." Nick explained. "Mum?" He asked at the sudden silence.

"It is so _cute_ that you're going to a ball for your girlfriend!" She finally blurted out. "Do you know what she'll be wearing? You have to match her and knowing Niamh we'll have to find something violet. We'll have to get you a corsage and…"

"_Mum_!" Nick snapped. "It's a black-tie ball! _Not_ a prom! There will be no corsages or pictures or matching my waistcoat to a violet dress. We're both wearing black. It matches with everything. I just wanted to know if you could help me with my dinner suit."

Hope sighed, thinking, _'You're no fun! Though I should have known…You didn't go to your prom anyway.' _Finally she said, "Since I can't rush down and see you and vice versa, I'll call in a favour. There's a small shop just a little way from your block of flats, I have a friend that works there. I'm sure you remember Cheri-Anne."

"Yes," Nick said, thinking. _'I remember Cheri-Anne. She tried to shove me into a purple tuxedo for some stupid fashion show when I was fifteen! That woman isn't right in the head…Never has been.' _

"She should be able to help. Though she prefers to work with bright colours, she knows a thing or two about formal wear."

"Sure. Thanks Mum."

"Anytime. You'll take pictures right? I want to see how…"

"Look, I have a brief to do so, I've got to…go…bye." Nick quickly hung up and let out a long sigh. While he loved his mum and was grateful for her help, sometimes she could be a bit crazy. _'Of course she thinks it's cute…'_ He thought with a small smile, knowing that it was, but still feeling like she needed to tone it down. _'I know she's eager to help but I can handle it…I hope.' _

Nick thought uneasily. He then decided to occupy the rest of his time with his work, wanting to be well prepared for his trial at one. He worked for as long as he could, deciding to go to bed early since he had to meet Niamh at seven thirty. He arrived on time the following morning and wasn't surprised when Niamh called him in rather than answering the door herself. Once inside, he found her in the kitchen, throwing together the last bits of a small breakfast.

"Sorry about this. I wanted to have it done when you arrived, but I had some things to work on," She said, moving from the cooker to the counter with the last of the food.

"It's fine. I like seeing you in the kitchen. It suits you," Nick said, taking a place at the table. He turned in his chair to watch her for a bit longer.

Niamh smiled and threw off the apron she had been wearing so she wouldn't ruin her clothes. She then grabbed the plates and set them on the table, following it up with two tea cups.

"You look nice today," Nick complimented, wanting to start off on a good note.

"I look no different than any other day, but thank you."

"Though I would've preferred a skirt," He said, eyeing her black trousers.

Niamh rolled her eyes. "Of course you would," She muttered before she started to eat.

"So, about this ball…" Nick said a few minutes later.

Niamh held up a finger, signaling for him to wait until she finished what she was eating. After a moment, she spoke. "I made you a copy of the invitation. Excuse me." She got up and went into the bedroom, coming back with a paper in hand. "It starts at six-thirty and dinner is to be served from seven to eight-thirty. Then we have until eleven to dance and mingle." She explained once she sat back down.

Nick nodded as he read through it and asked, "I know I have to wear a suit, but, what will you be wearing?"

"I'm not telling or showing. All you need to know is that it's black."

"Why can't I see?"

"If I show you, it will ruin the magic of the moment."

"What moment?"

"You know. The moment you see me for the first time when you pick me up. I want you to be surprised when you see me, and if I show you the dress, it ruins that surprise."

"Okay," Nick nodded. "When should I come pick you up?"

"I'll figure that out later in the week. Eat before your food gets cold, I worked hard on this you know."

"Some eggs, bacon, a biscuit and fruit. Very hard work there."

Niamh kicked him under the table. "If you don't appreciate it, I can throw it out."

"I'm kidding. Thank you for cooking."

"Anytime," She replied, and after they finished she said, "And since I cooked, _you_ can do the dishes. I have to finish getting ready." Then, before he could protest, she headed into the bathroom to finish her hair and makeup.

Nick sighed and did as he was told, washing them all by hand since she didn't have a dishwasher.

"Thank you," She said when he was nearly done, finishing with a kiss on his cheek. "What time do you have to be in chambers?"

"Sometime after my trial, but that isn't until one."

"Well, aren't you lucky?" Niamh teased as she selected and pulled on her court shoes. "What are you going to do with yourself, then?"

"Shopping for my dinner suit," He admitted as he dried the last dish and put it away.

"I guess we'll both be out then. I have to take Martha shopping after my trial. She needs a dress for the ball," Niamh said as Nick put on his own shoes.

"Can't Martha take herself shopping?" He asked as she gathered her belongings for court.

"She could, but I want to help. Come on before I miss the bus," She ordered as she stepped out with him following. Once outside, they exchanged good byes and brief kiss before they went their separate ways-Niamh to chambers and Nick to the shop his mum had mentioned. He didn't know the name, but he knew the place, as he had passed by it numerous times. Once he found it, he walked about lost for a bit, just staring at the products on display until a salesman got his attention.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"Yeah. I'm…uh…Looking for Cheri-Anne."

"Cherié! You have a visitor!" He called.

Moments later, a woman with dark hair and pink highlights came onto the floor. She was just a few years younger than Nick's mother, and her clothes were bright, mimicking his sister's style.

"Nick! I haven't seen you since you got called to the Barr!" She said, pulling him into a hug with a wide smile. "Look at you! Your mother tells me you're a big barrister now!"

"Actually I'm still in the last stages of my pupilage."

"Same thing," Cherie-Anne said with a wave of her hand. "What's this I hear about a black-tie ball?"

"The Lord Chief Justice's ball. My girlfriend invited me. She's been going since she was fifteen."

"Your mum told me you had a girlfriend. Who is she?"

"Her name is Niamh," Nick said, pulling out his wallet. "Actually, I have a picture. Here."

"She's cute! How'd you get her?" She said with a playful nudge.

Nick shrugged, not wanting to go into detail. "Anyway," He said, taking the photo back. "My mum said you could help me find a dinner suit. I don't have a lot to spend, but…"

"You're not buying it. It's useless to purchase something you'll wear for one day-minus wedding attire. We specialize in formal wear hire, which is why your mum sent you here. All I have to do is get your measurements and find a suit for you. Come with me."

Nick followed as she led him into a small dressing room off to the side.

"Stand up straight and spread your arms," Cheri-Anne ordered as she picked up a measuring tape.

He did so and she wrapped the tape around his waist, made note of the measurement on a pad f paper and moved up to his chest.

"Put your hand on your hip," She ordered, moving up to measure for the sleeve and then his neck, and finally, his leg to measure the inseam, making notes when she finished. "I'm going to take these and find something. You can wait back in the shop and I'll show it to you, then we'll discuss prices and pickup."

"Okay," Nick nodded and browsed the shop while he waited. He didn't find it very interesting, but needed something to occupy himself with. He turned when she called him back and looked over what she presented him.

"This is exactly what you need. A simple, black dinner suit. This set comes with not only the jacket and trousers, but a wing tip double cuff white shirt, cufflinks, bowtie and cummerbund."

"How much?"

"Fifty pounds for the weekend and we do the cleaning for you."

"Are you sure about this?"

"It's exactly what you wear at a black-tie event. It's either this, or you disappoint your girlfriend."

"Do you have anything cheaper?"

"This is the cheapest you can get."

Nick sighed. "Fine, I'll take it."

"I'll set it aside and you can come by to pick it up on Friday. Would you like to pay now or later?"

"I'll pay when I pick it up," Nick said, knowing that he was about twenty pounds short of the cost. _'I guess I just have to do a bit of extra work. Back to babysitting and dog walking for me.' _He thought as he left, deciding to go back home to work on his defense a bit more. After two hours or so of steady work, he gathered his things and left an hour before the trial was scheduled to give himself some time with the client. As he was leaving, Niamh paced outside of crown court, looking at her watch in annoyance.

"It's about time!" She said when Martha _finally_ appeared.

"Sorry, the trial ran on longer than intended, as did the meeting with my client. Both of which are more important than shopping," Martha said. "Come on, I have to go to my flat first."

"Okay." Niamh followed her until they found her car, and once everything they had was properly stored away, they headed off. Once inside the flat, Niamh immediately headed to the closet, while Martha organized her things in the lounge.

"What are you doing?" She asked when she walked into her bedroom.

"Are you _sure _you don't have anything to wear?" Niamh asked as she sieved through Martha's wardrobe, most of it being work clothes. "What about this?" She said, pulling out a black dress with a belt.

"That's a sundress."

"Oh," Niamh said as she put it back. "How do you _not_ have a real, black dress? It's an essential part of every woman's wardrobe!"

Martha shrugged. "I haven't owned one in awhile. The last one I had was a bit worn out and I got rid of it awhile ago."

"What about shoes? Do you at least have shoes to wear?" Niamh asked, moving to sit on the floor so that she could look through Martha's shoe collection, which consisted of mostly court shoes, a few pairs of sandals, a few pairs of boots and two pairs of athletic shoes.

"I could just wear my normal shoes," Martha suggested.

Niamh sighed. "Martha, you can't wear court shoes to a black-tie ball. I guess we have to look for some to go with your dress."

"Then we should hurry up. I'd like to get this over with so I can continue with my trial."

"Fine," Niamh said as she stood. "Lunch first or shopping?" She asked as they headed back out.

"Lunch. We'll need the energy," Martha said, knowing well that with women, especially Niamh, shopping was never a small, quick process.

"Can I drive?"

"_No_," Martha snapped. No one drove her car but her, and being honest, she wasn't sure of Niamh's driving skill. She knew that she had a license but didn't want to risk anything, since Niamh didn't drive at all due to her lack of a car.

Niamh shrugged and simply got in.

After a small lunch at a local bistro, she guided Martha to one of her favourite boutiques. She had been with Felicia more than once to rent outfits for photo shoots, as, they specialized in women's evening wear.

"How do you know about this place? It looks way out of your price range," Martha said as they stepped out of the car.

"I usually come here to window shop, and Felicia takes advantage of their hiring service to obtain outfits for shoots," Niamh explained. "I know it looks expensive, but some of the simpler ensembles don't cost too much."

Martha responded with an unsure smile and they headed inside. The atmosphere changed almost instantly, and the bustling, London street life was replaced with a world of elegant, silk clothing, shining jewels and seemingly endless racks of shoes. And, though she wouldn't admit it, Martha was sure she'd found part of heaven. "My God…" She muttered.

"It has that effect," Niamh shrugged and pulled at her hand, leading her over to a section of all black dresses. "Just start looking. For black-tie you want something simple that will still make a nice statement." She said as she began to sieve through one of the racks.

Martha watched her a moment and did the same, sighing at the lack of dresses in her size.

'_None of these are me, except this one, maybe…' _Martha thought as she held a garment in front of her. It was a longer piece with a modest v-neck and short sleeves.

"Not that one," Niamh said. "It's _too_ simple. Try these." She said, holding up three dresses.

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Alright," Martha took the first one she offered and moved into the dressing room. When she came back out, Niamh stood behind her as she looked in the mirror. "I look like a whore." She decided, laughing a bit as she stared at her reflection. The halter top dress Niamh had given her was too short for her taste _and_ for black-tie. It fell two inches or so above her knees and she felt as if the top was constricting her and showing off a little too much.

"You do _not_. I think it looks good," Niamh assured her.

"For a seventeen-year-old."

"Then I guess this one is out too," Niamh held up a strapless dress that was the same length.

"Yes. And, it's a size too small," Martha informed her, glancing at the tag.

"Oh."

"Why don't you let me pick out my own dresses? You can help decide as I try them on."

"I guess."

"It's not that you're _not_ helping, it's just…You and I have two different taste. Our styles differ by about fifteen years. And God knows I'm not hot enough to wear what you have in your hands."

Niamh laughed. "Okay. You pick the dress and I'll pick the shoes?"

"That sounds fair."

Niamh nodded and took a seat in the lounge chair behind her, waiting as Martha changed and then watching _and_ waiting as she picked out a few different dresses. They went through four, each one having something wrong with it according to Niamh. Martha was grateful for the help but began to get agitated after seven choices, and, as she put the eighth one on, she made a decision.

"This one," She said when she came back out.

"Are you sure? It seems a bit…boring," Niamh said.

"I like it. It's simple, elegant and perfect for me. It has to be this one," Martha said, nodding at her reflection. This dress was a simple piece that fell an inch or so past her knees and had a modest, wide v-neck, perfect for showing off a necklace if she chose to wear one.

"You're right. It works well for you and is more than appropriate."

Martha gave a small nod and quickly changed, then, she glanced at the price tag of her chosen dress. "Thirty pounds. That's not bad."

"We haven't found shoes yet," Niamh pointed out.

"That's your job, remember?"

Niamh smiled and they moved onto the shoes. "Do you have any specifications?"

"No open toes or sandals. I plan on wearing stockings, which looks good with neither of those."

Niamh nodded and began to pick out and present a few pairs of shoes for Martha to choose from, most of them simple heels.

"What about those?" Martha pointed to the pair of shoes that Niamh currently held in her hands. It was another pair of simple, black pumps, but instead of stopping at the heel, the back was ankle-length and had a black strap that was meant to go around the ankle.

"I thought they suited you," Niamh handed the box over and watched as Martha tried them on. "What do you think?" She asked, thinking they looked great and would match perfectly with the dress.

"I think they work," Martha replied. "See, you are helpful. Let's pay for these and head out. We have work to do, you know."

"I know," Niamh nodded, and after they put everything they had looked through back in the proper places, Martha paid for the items and they left.

"What about jewellery?" Niamh asked, heading towards the shop across the street.

"No." Martha grabbed her arm. "I can wear something I already own. No more shopping, not today. I think fifty pounds is more than enough for me to spend."

"Fine," Niamh sighed as they headed back to the car.

Meanwhile, Nick stood in the magistrate's court arguing a juvenile misdemeanor case. Through his research and discussion with the client, he found it to be a simple misunderstanding and a case of being in the wrong place and the wrong time.

"While it's true that my client was out far later than she should have been, that does not automatically make her guilty. In fact, Miss Dowell confided in me that she was trying to stop the situation from getting worse. May I call her to tell her own story?" Nick said, feeling unusually confident that day. The trial was going just as he wanted it to, and appeared to be leaning in his favour.

The judge allowed it, and the defendant, Katelyn Dowell, was allowed to take the stand.

"Why don't you start with why you were out that night, Katelyn?"

Katelyn nodded. "My friend and I made plans to go out to a pub. Of course, we had to use fake IDs to get in, but, I've already been punished for that and it is not why we are here. On the way home, we were both a bit drunk and got wrapped into a conversation with some older boys. They convinced us to come with them, which, at the time, seemed fun and exciting. I know that it was dangerous for several reasons and we were lucky that we weren't kidnapped or something."

"And where did these boys take you?" Nick asked.

"To their neighbourhood."

"Where in their neighbourhood?"

"I'm not really sure. I do know that it was someone's home. They claimed that it was the home of one of their teachers. Then they handed my friend and I cans of spray paint and ordered us to help them. I said no, and I tried to stop them, but in the middle of our argument, a light went on. The shoved the objects into my hands and ran. I was confused, so I just stood there and ended up caught," Katelyn explained. "I know it sounds lame, like something you would see in a film. Personally, I would never believe it if it hadn't happened to me, but I don't often lie and I've never touched a can of spray paint in my life."

"Do you remember the names of these boys?"

"Only their first names, but I doubt that will help much."

"You continuously refer to your friend as just a friend. Why don't you give her name?"

"I didn't want to take her down with me."

"You do know that if you tell us, we can call her as a witness, correct?"

"But I…"

"_Katelyn_," Nick warned. "You _know_ what you have to do and what's right."

There was a moment of silence, and after some contemplation, Katelyn finally responded. "Her…name is Sydney. Sydney Camilé."

"Is she here with us, today?"

Katelyn shook her head. "I never told anyone she was with me before today."

Nick looked up at the judge. "Sir, may I request we adjourn and reconvene when the second witness is present?"

The judge thought for a moment and nodded. "Court adjourned. We shall reconvene tomorrow at ten AM. All rise."

After everyone filed out, Nick met with the client again, assuring her and her father, who had joined her that day, that it was a good thing that she revealed Sydney's identity, saying that it would help her case.

"I know it feels bad, but you'll feel better once this is all over. It's never a good feeling when you rat someone out, but you don't want to take the fall for someone else, do you?"

"I guess not," Katelyn shrugged.

"I'll do some more research tonight and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Katelyn nodded and they went their separate ways. Nick arrived back at his flat around three and got to work on the second part of the defense and, just as he had figured out the last of the witness questions, his mobile rang.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Nick?" A man said over the line.

"Mr. O'Neill?"

"I know this is a bit last minute, but our babysitter for the night had to cancel and Andrea and I were wondering if you would mind watching Johnny tonight."

Nick considered it for a moment, knowing he could use the money for his suit, and said, "Sure. For how long?"

"Six to eleven. Five hours."

"Okay. I'll be up there at six then."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. I'll see you then." At that, he hung up and got back to work until he had to leave, his destination being only two floors above.

"Thanks again," Andrea said as she let him in.

"Like I told your husband, it's no problem."

"We should be home by eleven and you know the routine. Johnny hasn't eaten yet, so go ahead and make something for him and help yourself to whatever's in the fridge."

"Thank you," Nick nodded and closed the door once they left. When he turned around, he expected to see Johnny, but the lounge was empty. "Johnny?" He called as he headed down the small hallway, eventually finding the boy pouting next to his bed. "What are you doing in here?" He asked, only to have Johnny turn his back on him.

Nick sighed, walked over and knelt to his level. "Did something happen?" He asked carefully.

"No," Johnny replied.

"Then why are you in here sulking rather than playing with me?"

"Mummy is having a baby," Johnny explained after a moment of silence.

Nick simply nodded, having figured that out himself.

"It's a girl."

"Is that why you're mad?"

"I wanted a brother! It's not fair!"

"Sisters are nice too."

"How would you know?"

"I have a sister. I wanted a brother too, but having a sister is just as much fun. My sister and I played games together, and I helped her with school."

"But sisters are girly! And they want you to play tea and dolls and dress up!"

"Occasionally. But if you play your sister's games once in awhile, then she'll have to play what you like in return. You just can't be too rough. At least, that's how it worked in my house."

"How old is your sister?"

"Nineteen. Two years younger than me."

"You're a big brother."

"And you will be too. As a big brother you get to teach your sister about the world and you have to protect her and keep her safe when you can."

"Like a knight?" Johnny looked up with bright eyes. He had always had an interest in knights and tales of chivalry.

"If you want to think about it like that," Nick said with a shrug.

"That sounds fun…But, I still want a brother."

"You'll learn," Nick sighed as he stood, pulling Johnny up with him, then, changing the subject, he said, "Your mum said you haven't eaten. Did she leave dinner?"

Johnny shook his head. "Tuesday is leftover night."

"In that case, what do you want?" Nick asked as they headed back down the hall.

Johnny thought for a moment and said. "I want a sandwich!"

"What kind of sandwich?"

"Peanut butter! And honey!"

Nick couldn't help but laugh at that.

"What's funny?"

"Peanut butter and honey is my girlfriend's favourite sandwich," Nick confessed as he opened the pantry for the peanut butter.

"You have a girlfriend? Yuck."

"What do you mean yuck?"

"Girls are yucky!"

'_Typical six-year-old,' _Nick thought. "Actually, she's very pretty. Would you like to see a picture?"

Johnny nodded and Nick handed him the picture from his wallet.

"She _is_ pretty," Johnny admitted.

"And she's mine." Nick took his picture back and proceeded to make the sandwich, deciding on some of the leftovers for himself and setting both plates on the table when he finished.

"Tell me more!" Johnny demanded after they had finished.

"More about what?"

"Your girlfriend."

"I've got a better idea, how about we give her a ring? She should be home."

"Okay!"

Nick smiled, pulled his mobile from his pocket and dialed Niamh.

"Hello?" She answered as she marked something in her brief.

"Niamh, it's me."

"Did you need something?"

"No. I'm babysitting and it came out that I had a girlfriend."

"And?"

"Have you got a few minutes? Johnny wants to talk to you."

Niamh smiled, holding back a laugh. "Sure. Put him on."

"She wants to talk to you," Nick said, handing him the mobile.

"Hello?" Johnny asked.

"Hi, Johnny," Niamh replied.

"Are you really Nick's girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?"

"Niamh."

"You sound nice. Are you nice?"

"Most of the time," Niamh admitted. "How old are you, Johnny?"

"Six, but I'll be seven in April! How old are _you_?"

Niamh laughed. "Twenty-Two. My birthday was two weeks ago."

"If you're Nick's girlfriend…does that mean you kiss him?"

"Sometimes."

"Yuck," Johnny said with a disgusted expression that Nick laughed at.

"You'll understand when you're older."

"Nick showed me your picture! You're pretty."

"Thank you, and I would guess that you're very handsome."

"My mum thinks so." Johnny said. "She's having a baby."

"Congratulations. That means you're going to be a big brother."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No. It's only me."

"Me too. Is it true that peanut butter and honey is your favourite sandwich?"

"Yes it is. It's been my favourite since I was your age."

"That was a long time ago."

"Not really. Look, I have to get back to work. Can you put Nick back on?"

"Okay. Bye-bye!"

"Bye."

Johnny handed the phone back to Nick. "She wants to talk to you again."

"Yes?" Nick said.

"He's a sweet kid. He switches topics very often though," Niamh said.

"I think that's normal for a six-year-old. Will I see you in chambers tomorrow?"

"That depends, what's your next case?"

"I'm still working with the same one. The trial is extended so we can bring in a witness. It's at ten AM."

"Mine's at ten fifteen. Maybe we could meet up for lunch?"

"Sure. I'll ring you tomorrow to tell you the time."

"Okay. See you then, bye." At that, Nick hung up and turned his attention to Johnny.

"She's nice and pretty but girls are still yucky! I can't believe you kiss her!"

"Enough about Niamh. Let's play."

"Okay! Grandma gave me some new furniture for my castle!" Johnny said, leading Nick into his room where his knight castle was. It was built by his dad and he was always looking to add to it. They quickly got into a game until it was time for Johnny to go to bed. After he was asleep, Nick took to watching television until his parents returned.

"How was he?" Mr. O'Neill asked.

"Good. He was a little upset at first, but I changed his mood."

"He wants a brother so badly. It's hard to explain why he can't just have one," Andrea said as she reached in her handbag. "Is sixteen okay?"

"That's more than generous."

"It's okay. You really helped us in a pinch. Thank you."

"No problem," Nick said again as he turned to leave. _'Just six more pounds to go. It shouldn't be too hard to get that.' _He thought as he left. Once he got back into his own flat, he resumed his work and was back in court on time.

Though Sydney seemed in a bad mood, she eventually cooperated and things went well, at least, that's what Nick hoped as he stood outside the courtroom, waiting for them to call him back for the verdict.

"On the count of vandalism, we find the defendant, Katelyn Dowell _not_ guilty," One of the bench members said.

'_Yes!' _Nick thought. He smiled at Katelyn and was thanked outside of court. Afterwards, he headed back to chambers to find a new brief waiting for him, then, at noon he met Niamh for lunch at a casual café she had picked and they went over the remaining details for the ball.

"I haven't talked to Martha yet, but I was thinking of spending the day getting ready at her flat," Niamh said as she twirled her fork around in the garlic noodles on her plate.

"Why?" Nick asked.

"I want to take her to get her nails done, and it's not fair of me to make her run around to so many places. I just think it's easier if she picks me up, we get done and then go to her flat."

"And how are we getting to the ball?"

"We'll take a cab. An event this formals calls for something far better than the bus or underground. You should probably come around five thirty."

"That's an hour from the start."

"Yes, but I don't know how long the ride will take and then we have to wait to be checked in," Niamh explained, picking up her glass as she spoke.

"Checked in?" Nick asked.

Niamh nodded. "They will have a list of who has accepted and their guests. It's to assure that there are no unauthorized people there. And, nearly every year at least one person tries to bring their kid, but they're always denied."

Nick nodded, understanding why they refused children.

"Do you want desert?" He asked after a few minutes.

Niamh shook her head. "No. Not from here," She said, sieving through her handbag for her wallet. "Do you want me to pay for yours too or…?"

"No. I've got this one. Just give me your share and I'll pay."

Niamh nodded, handed him the money and waited while he paid at the register.

"If you don't want desert here, then where do you want to go?" He asked once he returned.

"The ice cream place down the road."

"Okay," Nick agreed and they left holding hands, each holding a briefcase in their free hands. The walk was short and the place, small and quaint. It was quite homely, Nick thought as the queue moved up.

'_I bet she gets something small and simple, like vanilla. Most women I took out for ice cream did, something about not wanting to seem like a fat ass,' _He thought as Niamh contemplated the menu board.

"Chocolate dipped in peanut butter in a sugar cone, please," Niamh said when she finally made her choice.

'_What?' _Nick thought with a slightly confused expression.

"Sir?" The woman at the counter asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry. Can I get a double scoop sugar cone? One scoop strawberry and the other vanilla."

"Okay," The woman nodded as he handed her the money. Then he moved over to the side with Niamh as the waited for the orders to be finished.

"I can't believe you got _that_," Nick said as they left.

"Why?"

"Most women I took for ice cream would usually get something…"

"Plain? Like strawberry or vanilla?"

"Yeah, how did…?"

"I _am_ a woman, Nick. I used to be like that, until I realized that it was stupid and that I should be able to eat whatever I want without being judged. I found that a good amount of men find it hot when a woman actually eats."

"Niamh?"

"Hm?" She stopped and turned toward him.

"You have a little…" He trailed off as he leaned in and gave her a light kiss. "Never mind. You taste like peanut butter."

Niamh giggled and they moved on, both deciding to go home after their walk.

Once she was inside her flat, Niamh dropped her stuff and called Martha to tell her the ideas she had for Saturday.

"What, Niamh?" Martha asked when she answered, aggravated with the work in front of her. It simply wouldn't come together the way she wanted it to.

"What are you doing Saturday morning?"

"I don't know, why?"

"I'm taking you to get your nails done."

"_Why_?"

"For the ball! I was thinking we could go out, get our nails done, and spend the rest of our time at your place."

"Niamh, I don't have the money for something frivolous like that."

"I know someone who will do it for free. All I have to is help her out from time to time."

"Okay, but why do we have to get ready at _my_ flat? Can't I just take you home?"

"I don't think it's fair for you to run all over the place for me. Besides, I kind of wanted you to arrive with Nick and I."

Martha thought for a moment and finally she said, "Okay. I'll pick you up at noon, alright?"

"Okay," Niamh nodded, though Martha couldn't see it, hung up and went back to work on her new brief, as the last had only been a one day trial. _'Double kidnapping? This could be interesting…'_ She thought with a smile as she flipped through the paperwork. The trial was listed for three days, the next, Friday _and_ Monday. She had been told that she'd been given the case simply because those on the senior end were busy, but knew that it was a lie, at least, part of it. She was starting to gain respect in chambers and was developing her own skill. Even Kate once admitted that she was getting good, but still made it clear that she hated her and Nick having places in chambers.

'_Well, she can piss off. She mostly does prosecution anyway and I defend,' _Niamh thought as she wrote something in her notebook. Though she was unsure of the case, she changed her mind when she met with the client, who seemed to be set up.

"So it wasn't you who picked the children up off the street?" She asked bluntly.

"No," The man said. "My ex wife needed someone to blame and naturally, she blamed me. I was nowhere near the school that day, as my boss will testify."

Niamh nodded as she wrote something down.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How _old_ are you? Because to be honest, I'd feel better if I had someone more…experienced working my case."

"I am twenty-two and perfectly capable of handling this," Niamh said with a glare.

"So, you're one of _them_. Baby barristers…You're not good for anything but minor traffic cases."

"Look, I'm not asking you to like me, and frankly, I don't care if you approve of me or not. But, _I_ am doing your case and you will have to accept it. You are in no position to be judging barristers anyway. Now, tell me where you were that day."

"Actually, I'd rather do _something else_ with you," He said with a sly smile.

I have a boyfriend!" She blurted out, the statement being the first thing that came to mind.

"Um…Okay? I was thinking more along the lines of replacing you. You didn't think…" The man laughed. "Oh, God, _no_. Not only are you too young, but you're not my definition of beautiful."

At that, Niamh stood and left the room. She stood outside for a few minutes, calming herself down and trying to resist the urge to go back and slap him.

'_His opinion of my appearance doesn't matter. It's my skills that are important.' _She told herself. _'Just because he's a jerk, doesn't mean he's a kidnapper. Now go back in there and show him that you __**are**__ worth something.' _She then took in a breath, went back in and pretended as if nothing happened. He cooperated a little more after a bit, and she went into court confident in her defense. Things went well over the first two days of the trial, and Niamh was sure they'd get the verdict they desired and that the client deserved, despite his attitude.

However, she was thinking of none of that when she woke up Saturday morning. After a quick glance at the calendar she smiled. _'Today's the day!' _She thought as she got up, spending most of the morning going over her outfit and selecting the proper jewellery and makeup for that night, all of which she swept into her handbag shortly before Martha arrived.

"Now, where are we going?" Martha asked as Niamh set her belongings, including her newly dry-cleaned dress, in the boot of the car.

"Camden. Here's the address," Niamh said, handing Martha a piece of paper.

"You're not going to get me lost are you?"

"Not if I drive."

"_No_. No one drives this car but me, stop trying."

Niamh shrugged and got in.

The ride was mostly silent, except for Niamh's directions here and there, and whatever small talk they thought of.

"How's your trial going?" Martha asked as Niamh pointed out the next turn.

"My client is a jerk, but the case itself is fine."

"You'll get that sometimes. Left at this light?"

"Yes. Then keep going straight until I tell you to turn."

"So, this is where you're from? It's kind of a…strange place."

"There's a lot of alternative culture, but there are plenty of places that are normal, like my neighbourhood. Turn right up here."

"This place?"

"No, my parents live a few streets down. Number twenty-four."

Martha nodded and quickly scanned the street for a parking spot.

"Come on," Niamh said, grabbing her wrist once they stepped out.

"Where are we, exactly?" Martha asked, looking at their surroundings.

"You'll see."

Though she had a key, Niamh knocked once they came to the door.

"Niamh!" Teresa said when she answered. "What are you doing here?"

"My mum didn't tell you? It's that time of year again."

"Did I miss your birthday?"

"_No_," Niamh laughed. "The black-tie ball. I was wondering if you could do my nails."

"Of course, Sweetheart!"

"I hope you don't mind, but, I brought a friend with me," Niamh said, moving so that Martha could be seen. "This is Martha Costello."

"Of course it's okay. Nice to meet you Ms. Costello."

"Likewise, Ms…?"

"Greye. But, please, call me Teresa. Come in, come in." Teresa ushered them in. "Just take a seat on the sofa while I get my things. Who's first?"

"Martha," Niamh said.

"I'm fine with that."

"Sit then. Felicia! Pippa! Niamh's here!"

As Teresa went upstairs, two girls ran down.

"Niamh!" Felicia said, pulling her into a hug just as her mother had. "I feel like it's been forever."

"It's only been two weeks, Felicia. I've been busy, and on top of that we live two completely different lives in two completely different areas now."

"I know, but I still miss you!"

"Me too," Pippa said. "Felicia is no help with English."

"I don't need words. I use pictures," Felicia claimed as she titled her head to look past Niamh. "Oh, hi Martha."

Martha simply nodded to her.

"Why are you here anyway?" Pippa asked.

"_We_ are here to get our nails done. The Lord Chief Justice's ball is tonight."

"So you invited her, but not me," Felicia said.

"No, I have my own invitation," Martha said. "Niamh's taking Nick."

"Aww! You two are so cute together!"

"Stop. You sound like my mum," Niamh laughed as Teresa returned with the large, black case that held her at-home nail kit.

"What colour?" She asked Martha.

"I was thinking just a clear…"

"No!" Niamh interrupted. "Clear coats are boring and only for little kids. How about red? It would match your lipstick."

"Very funny, but I guess it would look good," Martha thought as she stretched her arm out, studying her nails carefully.

"Good lord!" Teresa said, grabbing her hand. "When was the last time you had your nails done?"

"About two years ago," Martha confessed.

"No wonder your hands look like this…This'll take some work. How about you hang out with them for awhile?" Teresa suggested to Niamh.

"Okay," Niamh shrugged.

"Good, you can help me build my portfolio!" Felicia said as she grabbed Niamh's hand and promptly pulled her upstairs.

"Where's your dad, today?" Niamh asked.

"He's doing the shopping this week."

"Can you help me with my essay?" Pippa asked. "I don't get poetry."

"Go away," Felicia snapped. "Niamh is _my _best friend. Not yours."

"You sound like a little kid," Niamh pointed out.

They ignored her.

"You think you're so special because you're an adult! Why don't you get a real job?" Pippa snapped back.

"Should we do something about that?" Martha asked, once she heard the argument.

"They'll work it out," Teresa shrugged as she filed Martha's nails. "Other hand."

Eventually they did work it out, but only because Niamh ended up being the voice of reason.

'_It's times like these I'm glad I'm an only child…' _She thought, saying, "I'll help both of you." She then took out a coin. "Heads or tails?"

"Tails!" Felicia said.

Niamh flipped it. "Heads. I help Pippa first."

"Fine," Felicia sighed.

"Niamh tells me you're a QC," Teresa said as she searched her polish collection.

"She's right. And, it wasn't easy. The dark red."

"I have around twenty shades of…"

"The one in your hand."

"Oh, okay. How long have you been at the Barr?"  
"Fifteen years."

"About as long as I've been at my job, but I guess by that time you're due for a promotion," Teresa said, applying a base coat to the nails on Martha's left hand as she spoke. "You'll have to wait a few minutes for this to dry before I put the colour on, and after that dries, I have a top coat and a concealer. Do you want a pedicure too?"

"I won't be showing my toes, so, no. Thank you though."

"Okay," Teresa shrugged. "So, we all know Niamh is seeing someone, what about you?"

"Not now."

"Oh. What do you know about Niamh's boyfriend? She won't tell me much, just that he's in chambers too."

"Nick's a nice guy and just perfect for Niamh. Being honest, I think they complement each other. Has she shown you any pictures?"

"One at Christmas. He's cute, if I remember correctly."

"He is. But, he's even cuter with Niamh. Even if they haven't admitted it, I think they're in love. Don't tell Niamh I said that."

Teresa sighed. "Young love…Other hand."

After she finally finished with Martha, Teresa called Niamh down, who wanted a mani-pedi with both sets of nails being done in deep-violet.

"Always with the violet," Martha sighed as she watched Teresa apply Niamh's chosen colour.

"Of course," Niamh replied.

Meanwhile, at his flat, Nick was busy getting ready in his own way. When he had gotten up, he took out and set aside the suit he had picked up the previous day, double-checked it and moved on to doing a bit of necessary cleaning and working on his newest brief, which was a prosecution.

'_I don't really like to prosecute, but…I guess it's good to try my hand at it,' _He thought as he took notes. _'All I have to do is present evidence.' _

He figured that he'd start getting ready at four, knowing that it wouldn't take long, while Niamh and Martha, who had returned to her flat at two, started right away.

"We're both going to have to take baths," Niamh pointed out as she hung her dress on the closet door in the bedroom.

"You first, you're the guest," Martha said, lying her own outfit on the bed.

"Are you sure?"

Martha nodded. "Just let me get you a towel and a dressing gown."

"You have lavender and vanilla, right?"

"All the bath solutions are under the sink."

Niamh nodded and headed into the bathroom. Once there, she searched through the stuff under the sink, and found exactly what she was looking for. Since the bubble bath was separate, she took a cup and mixed them together, just as she did at home.

"Here," Martha said, coming in with a towel and dark-blue dressing gown. "What are you doing?"

"Mixing my favourite scents. Lavender _and_ vanilla."

"Okay," Martha shrugged and left as Niamh began to run the water.

She poured the solution in as it ran and stood to undress while Martha got to work in the longue. She had a murder trial coming up on Monday, and wanted to be well-prepared, as always. However, after an hour, she began to get impatient, but not with the work, with Niamh.

'_My God! How long does it take to take a bath?!' _She thought just as Niamh finally stepped out of the bathroom.

"Your turn," Niamh said, stepping into the living room.

"What took you so long?"

"It's a bath. I'm supposed to linger. Just go get done so we can do our makeup and hair."

Martha rolled her eyes and moved past Niamh and into the bathroom. She decided to use a mixed berry solution for her bath, and while she set it up, Niamh looked over Martha's brief for a bit. Then, she moved into the bedroom, sorted out the makeup in her handbag, set aside her shoes and put only her necessities in the clutch she planned to carry that night. Afterwards, she went back to the brief and read over more of it until Martha reappeared, allowing Niamh to get back into the bathroom.

"You have a curling iron, right?" She asked.

"Of course. It should be on the opposite side of the bath solutions."

Niamh smiled when she found it, while at the same time, Nick got up to get ready himself. He decided to start with a shower, which took far less time than the women's baths. In fact, he spent more time figuring out the different parts of the suit than he did in the shower.

'_Why does this have to have so many parts? Can't I just wear my work suit?' _He asked himself, though, he already knew the answer. _'I can't believe I have to wear a bowtie…I look like a dork!' _He thought when he was finally dressed. He then looked at the clock and realized that he had a half hour left before he had to pick Niamh up and decided to continue working.

Meanwhile, Niamh had convinced Martha to let her do her makeup and was working on the last of it. "Just a little bit of the onyx colour and you'll be done," She said, brushing some eye shadow from Martha's colour pallet. "Okay, open your eyes."

"Do I get a mirror?"

"Not until you get dressed. I want you to see the full effect. I'll take my clothes and dress in the lounge. You can stay in your bedroom," Niamh said as she left the bathroom. She then gathered her clothes and moved into the longue, but realized that it was a bit of a bad idea to be alone with the dress she had. "Martha!" She called.

"What?" Martha replied.

"Can you come help me?"

"With what?" Martha asked as she stepped out, dressed except for her jewellery.

"I can't zip up my dress. The end is too low down my back."

Martha sighed and did as she was asked.

"Thank you."

Martha nodded and turned back around as Niamh found and put on her chosen jewellery as well, finishing off the whole look with her shoes and just a bit of perfume. She then went to the bedroom and carefully knocked on the door, entering at Martha's welcome.

"So, what do you think?" Niamh asked, taking a place behind her in front of the dressing mirror.

"I look hot," She said as she looked herself over. She had paired her dress with her chosen shoes, black stockings and a small assortment of jewellery. Around her neck hung a simple, diamond necklace that had been a Christmas gift from her mum and matched her small, diamond earrings and the bangle around her right wrist. Her makeup was light and subtle, and consisted of only her lipstick, a bit of mascara and the eye shadow that Niamh had done, which was a dark, but lightly applied layer of violet with a bit of onyx mixed in.

Niamh laughed. "You do, really. Come on, we've got a few minutes before Nick is supposed to arrive," She said, motioning Martha away from the mirror to get a better look at herself. She had chosen a simple, strapless black dress that reached to the floor with what was made to look like a sash just a half inch or so under her breasts adorned with a small bow. It was one of two fancy dresses she owned, and she had paired it with a necklace on which the main part was a heart-shaped purple gem, surrounded by small cubic zirconium bits meant to look like diamonds, a birthday gift from her mum. The colour of the heart matched her earrings and the outfit was finished with the black, peep-toe pumps that she had worn on her and Nick's first date, as, she wanted to show off her painted toenails. Her makeup was light like Martha's, as she had used the same colour eye shadow, but her lipstick was a light-pink colour rather than the red Martha favoured.

Both women had decided to leave their hair down with the ends curled; the only real difference was their fringes. While Niamh's was pushed behind her ears, Martha had pushed hers to the side.

'_I know I've worn this dress before, but it's never any less stunning,' _Niamh thought with a quick twirl, stopping once she saw Martha picking up her handbag. "You can't take that!"

"Why not?" Martha asked.

"Because black-tie is a formal event and is no place for roomy handbags. You should carry a clutch instead. All you really need is your compact, lipstick, keys, I.D. and a little bit of money. You have a clutch, right?"

"I _do_, actually. And, it's black," Martha said as she opened a drawer on her dresser. After a few moments of searching, she finally found the handbag in question and began to put a few things in it.

"Perfect," Niamh said, grabbing her own clutch just as knock came at the door. "That's Nick. Go answer it, I don't want him to see me yet."

"Alright, alright," Martha said as she left, finding Nick at the door, just as Niamh had predicted.

"Martha? You look…wow…" Nick said, unable to find the right words.

"You clean up well yourself," She replied.

"Oh, well…this is for you." From behind his back, Nick produced a single, red rose.

"Oh, thank you, Nick."

"Where's Niamh?"

"Niamh!" Martha called.

They both heard soft thuds as Niamh's heels collided with the hardwood floor and, when she finally appeared, Nick had to step back a moment.

"Oh, God…Niamh…You look…_Gorgeous_."

"Thank you," She said with a slight blush.

"For you," He said, presenting her with a rose as well.

"I see Martha got one too."

"I didn't think it was fair to give one woman a rose and leave the other empty-handed."

"Good thinking," Niamh said, then, getting a sudden idea, she titled her head toward Martha and mouthed something.

Reading her expression, Martha smiled and they both took places of Nick's side, and, after a signal given by Niamh, they both leaned in and kissed Nick's cheeks.

"What the…?" Nick said, wiping the lipstick off his face. "Never mind, can we go? The meter's running."

"You already hailed the cab?" Martha asked.

"It was easier that way."

"Just let us get our coats," Niamh said, picking hers up from the sofa and throwing Martha the other one there. Once they were situated, Niamh took Nick's arm as he led them outside and to the cab. "I forgot to say, you look nice," She said to Nick once they were settled inside the cab as Martha relayed the address to the driver.

"What's the purpose of this party, anyway?" Nick asked.

"Hm?" Niamh said, her head leaning on his shoulder.

"I read that black tie is a party with a purpose, so, what's the purpose?"

Niamh shrugged. "There's none really. Unless getting legal people together counts as one. It's just a party."

The cab ride took a half hour and the time was passed by them making small conversation and taking in the sights around them as they passed. When they finally arrived, they split the cost of the cab and stepped out in front of a rather posh hotel.

"Are you _sure_ this is it?" Nick asked.

"I'm sure. It's held here every year," Niamh said as she walked ahead. Once inside, she caught the attention of one of the attendants outside the ballroom who directed them to the coat closet.

"Now what?" Nick asked once the stepped out.

"We wait in queue to be checked in," Niamh explained as they joined said queue behind a woman who held the hand of what looked like a six-year-old boy. "Told you," Niamh whispered to Nick.

They waited patiently as the queue moved and were not at all surprised when the woman in front for them was denied admittance.

"Sorry, no children," The woman at the table, Bob's sister, Anna, said.

"Please? I swear he's really well behaved and…" The woman tried to argue.

"_No_. The invitation clearly states no guests under seventeen. Occasionally exceptions can be made for those one or two years younger but even those are rare. Black-tie balls are no place for little children and he will not be let in," Anna said back.

"But I…"

"I'm sorry, that's the rule and we will not budge. Please move aside."

The woman stalked off and Anna looked up at Nick and Niamh, "Name?" She asked.

"Cranitch."

"Niamh?"

"Yes ma'am."

"May I see your I.D.?"

"Sure," Niamh said, quickly handing over her driver's license.

"Alright. And, if you're Niamh then _you_," She looked at Nick, "Must be Nicholas."

"Nick," Nick corrected her.

"I.D. please."

Nick handed over his own card and waited while she checked them off.

"You're both at table five," Anna informed them as Nick then stepped to the side and she went through the same process with Martha, who was placed at the same table. And, once she was done they stepped into the ballroom.

"Niamh!" Valerie called, motioning her over.

"Mum," Niamh nodded when she stepped over. "Papa," She said with a smile before giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

Stephen smiled and gently cupped her face with one of his hands. "Look at _you_," He said, looking over her outfit.

"Our Angel is all grown up," Valerie whispered.

"_Mum_, not here," Niamh hissed under her breath.

"Sorry, Niamh."

"Oh, Mum, Papa, you remember Nick and Martha."

"Of course we remember your boyfriend, and it's nice to see you again, Ms. Costello," Valerie said, stepping over to Nick to look _him_ over. "Look at you. You clean up nicely, Mr. Slade."

"So, Martha, may I call you Martha?" Stephen said.

Martha nodded.

"Tell me about your latest case. Niamh doesn't like to relay details of hers."

"I just got it yesterday. It's a murder trial."

"Tell me about it," Stephen said as they walked off.

Niamh rolled her eyes as they headed off. Her father was always looking to hear about and help with cases. "What have you been working on, Mum?"

"I have a wedding coming up soon, actually," Valerie replied.

"When?"

"March sixteenth. I was kind of hoping I could get some help."

"It will depend on my schedule."

"What about you, Nick? Would you like to help serve one-hundred and twenty-seven people dinner and cake at a reception?"

"No thank you. I'm not very good at food service. I could ask my sister though. She's a waitress."

"Really?"

"Mum, you want might to distract Papa before he starts telling Martha how to do her job," Niamh said, tilting her head to the side.

Stephen appeared to be going on about something and Martha looked both bored and aggravated.

"Right." Valerie left and Niamh took Nick's hand.

"Where's the Lord Chief Justice?"

"He usually doesn't show until just before dinner. It's…"

"I just _knew_ you'd be here," A voice said from behind.

Niamh took in a breath and turned around with a smile on her face. "Hello Gregory."

"_Hello_ Miss Cranitch," Gregory said with a slight leer that made both Nick and Niamh uncomfortable.

"How's school?"

"Okay. Little birds tell me that you're actually at the Barr now."

"Yes. Shoe Lane Chambers to be specific."

"Can I count on a dance later?"

"If I have time."

"Come on, we both know that…"

Niamh held up a hand. "Stop there. We've been going through this for the past four years. I have no interest in going out with you, nor will I ever. Besides, I have a boyfriend."

"Who?"

"Nick, this is Gregory. Bob's son," Niamh said.

"Nice to meet you," Nick said as Gregory looked him up and down.

After he finished observing, Gregory gave a disapproving huff and turned around.

"What was that about?"

"He's been trying to ask me out for the past four years. I always say 'no,' but he's persistent. Don't worry about him, he's no competition. Let's go mingle for awhile," Niamh said, gently pulling at his wrist.

Though it was uncomfortable at first, Nick soon found it easy to make small talk with those around him and separated from Niamh for awhile until they had to sit down for dinner. At that time, the Lord Chief Justice finally appeared to formally welcome everyone and to relay the schedule for the night, and, as soon as he stepped off stage, the band began to play a few soft notes.

"What _is_ for dinner anyway?" Nick whispered to Niamh.

"Didn't you read the menu?" She asked.

"There was a menu?"

"I must have forgotten to copy it…It's rosemary and garlic chicken, roasted red potatoes, two vegetables and either rolls or breadsticks-it changes by year."

"Do we get dessert?"

Niamh nodded. "Fruit parfaits."

"Sounds good to me," Nick shrugged as Niamh joined the conversation her father was having with Martha. Moments later, the servers arrived to pour drinks, giving everyone a few different choices.

"Miss?" One of the waiters asked Niamh, in position to pour the remnants of the bottle he held into her glass.

"No thank you. I'll take sparkling water instead."

"Do you have a preference?"

"Cherry, if you have it."

"Yes, Miss."

"Not drinking tonight, Niamh?" Stephen asked.

Niamh shook her head. "Maybe later. I don't feel like drinking right now."

"That's fine," Valerie said, "Now about the garden tea…" She went one about some small catering event and the waiter returned with Niamh's requested drink, which she thanked him for before turning back to her mum.

"But, enough about me. What have you been up to, Niamh?" Valerie finished.

"The usual," Niamh shrugged.

"Any good cases lately?" Stephen asked.

"None that I'm going to reveal."

"Why not?" Nick asked.

"Because, I want to do my job on my own and don't seek advice unless I'm truly stuck."

"Stubborn as always," Stephen whispered to Valerie.

"Of course. She is _your_ daughter," Valerie whispered back, smiling as Niamh struck up a conversation with Martha.

Moments later, the food was served and the conversation died down for a bit, minus a few breaks for occasional small talk.

During desert, Bob and his wife gave a little speech and introduced a few new and important people before the staff began moving tables aside to make a dance floor.

"What are we supposed to do, now?" Nick asked.

"I told you. Until eleven we're to dance and mingle, alright?" Niamh told him.

"I'm not sure if I…"

"I will teach you, then. Come on." Niamh took his hand and led him out onto the dance floor with the other couples.

Nick remembered his mum teaching him how to dance when he was a younger, but he had only done it once at a school dance. However, despite his insecurities, as soon as they moved it began coming back to him. He pulled Niamh in as close as he could and took the lead.

"They're so cute, aren't they?" Valerie whispered to Martha as they both stood off to the side.

Martha nodded and took an absent-minded sip of champagne. "Shouldn't you be dancing with your husband?"

"He's over with a few solicitors and besides, he always dances with Niamh first."

"That's sweet."

"Why are you standing here, anyway? It's a party, go mingle."

"Look, I really don't…"

"Go," Valerie urged, pushing her away.

'_I guess it's just like a big touting party…'_ Martha thought as she walked off. She managed to strike up a few conversations, but they were nothing too interesting. After awhile, she found herself trying to get away from a woman who did nothing but brag on and on about her son's accomplishments. _'How the fuck do I end this politely?' _She though, nodding at something the woman had said.

"See! I knew it was unfair. If you ask me the kid who actually won that award was…" The woman started.

"Excuse me, miss?" A man said from behind her.

"Yes?" She said with an annoyed look.

"The woman over there was asking for you," He pointed across the room.

Recognizing the person, the woman nodded. "My sister. I'm sorry, miss, but I have to…"

"No, it's fine. Go on," Martha said with a wave of her hand. "Thank you," She said to the man.

The man shrugged. "You looked like you were having some trouble, so I thought to help. Something tells me you're not at all interested in children's music recitals."

"No. I prefer courtrooms myself."

"Darien Marshall, Solicitor's rep," He said, holding his hand out.

"Martha Costello, QC," Martha said with a nod as she shook his hand.

"No way. You look _way_ too young to be a QC."

"That's something I don't hear every day."

Darien laughed. "And how old are you, twenty-seven?"

"You're funny," Martha said with a smirk. "I'm not telling."

"That's fine. Why don't you tell me about your latest case? Drink?"

"Sure," Martha smiled and they moved across the room.

On the floor, Nick found himself dancing with another solicitor's rep as Niamh danced with her father. They were in perfect sync with each other, and for the first time Nick was truly seeing the softer side of Stephen-the side that truly loved his daughter despite his high expectations and strict attitude towards her occasionally.

When Nick turned back to his partner, Stephen picked Niamh up and twirled her around.

"Either you're getting heavy or I'm getting old," He said when he set her down.

"It must be you, because I am _not_ heavy," Niamh snapped.

"Alright," Stephen replied, thinking, _'I guess it's a touchy subject…' _

"How have you and Mum been getting along?"

"She misses you sometimes. The other day I caught her making peanut butter cookies."

"With a touch of honey?"

Stephen nodded. "She may miss you, but she's proud of you," He said, hiding his own feelings. The truth was, he missed Niamh as well. He missed having her around for dinner, her greeting him when he came home, and most importantly, her laughter. There was _never_ a frown in the room when she started laughing.

"And you?" Niamh asked, a slight longing in her eyes. She yearned his praise sometimes, feeling as if she had to work harder not only because of her background, but because of her gender, as she was thought to have been a boy.

"You _know_ I'm proud of you. You have a place in chambers and handle yourself well. You've grown up nicely, Niamh."

"Thank you," Niamh said with a slight blush as the dance ended. "Go dance with Mum. I know she's been waiting."

Stephen nodded and walked off as Niamh tried to make her way back to Nick. However, her path was soon blocked by Gregory.

"Niamh," He said.

"Excuse me, Gregory," She said politely, trying to get past him.

"I came to ask you for a dance."

"I can't. Nick is waiting and…" She trailed off as he grabbed her hands.

"You don't have a choice."

Niamh sighed and nodded, figuring that one dance couldn't hurt and hoping that it would get him off her back for the night.

The dance itself wasn't hard, but slowly grew awkward as Gregory's hand traveled dangerously low down her back.

"What are you _doing_?" She hissed.

He replied by pulling her closer and resting his hand in the middle of her back for a moment, and once he was sure Niamh had settled a bit, he moved back down and suddenly grabbed her bum.

Niamh shoved him away with a gasp, turned and stomped off, finding it no use to cause a big scene.

"Niamh," He said, reaching for her as he followed.

"_Don't_," She snapped with a glare.

Gregory immediately stopped and she moved on, finding Nick leaning against a wall.

"What was _that_ about?" He asked.

"Don't ask. Let's get a drink."

"I thought you weren't drinking," Nick said as Niamh linked her arm with his.

"I never said I wasn't drinking. I just didn't feel like drinking during dinner."

"Oh."

As they made their way towards the table in the back, Martha ended part of a conversation with Darien and a few people and excused herself to get a drink. They waved her off and she turned in the proper direction, only to run straight into another person.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," They both said, almost in sync.

"No, it's fine," The man said. "It's my fault. I should have been looking."

"I wasn't paying attention, I should have looked first," Martha said.

"If we keep trying to shift blame, we'll be here all night."

Martha laughed.

"You've got a pretty smile," He complimented.

"Not really," Martha confessed, feeling as if she should introduce herself to the stranger complimenting her. "Martha Costello, QC."

"John Carter," He thought for a minute. "History teacher."

"Well, Mr. Carter…"

"Call me John."

"Okay, John. What is a history teacher doing at a ball full of legal professionals?"

"My sister's a solicitor and I'm her date. She didn't want to come alone."

Martha nodded. "And, do you always compliment women you run into?"

"Sometimes. And sometimes I also ask them to dance."

"I don't dance."

"Nonsense. _Everyone_ dances," John said, taking her hand.

"No. I really _don't_. I remember learning a bit when I was younger, but…"

"I'll teach you then," He said once they were out on the floor. "Just…take my hand, and put your other one here…good…"

Though she was nervous, Martha soon found him to be a good teacher, and it became easier the longer they went on.

"That's it…One, two, three…And you said you couldn't dance."

"It's been awhile," Martha admitted as he twirled her.

"I couldn't tell," John replied with a sweet smile.

'_His eyes…They're…Sweet…__**Stunning**__actually…Can I say that about a man?' _Martha though as she looked up, staring almost intently into his eyes.

'_Those eyes…Such a beautiful shade of blue,' _He thought of her as the music stopped.

"You're a wonderful teacher."

"I would hope so. I'd hate to be out of a job. I assume you were on your way to get a drink, so let's get one."

"Alright," She nodded and they walked off together, talking about whatever came to mind, and Martha was surprised to find him so easy to converse with, not thinking she could have anything in common with a teacher.

"And what do you do when you're not trying to teach teenagers about wars?" She asked.

"Grade papers and try and keep up with my kids."

"Kids?"

John nodded. "I have two, a boy and a girl. They're always full of energy."

"I find myself chasing after children occasionally, but only when I'm defending them. I had a few interesting trials awhile back with a sixteen-year-old defendant."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"He had kind of a hard life and did some bad things is all. But I could tell he was actually a pretty decent kid."

John thought to say something back but was interrupted by another voice.

"Martha!" Darien called. "I've been looking for you. I have a friend who wants to speak with you."

"I'll be there in a moment," Martha said and he walked off. "I'm sorry," She said to John.

"It's okay, just promise me another dance before the night ends."

"Alright," She nodded with a slight blush before walking off to join Darien and the friend he mentioned, who turned out to be a barrister in training looking for a bit of advice.

"I know a couple of people who are better to talk to about this sort of thing," Martha said once she finished explaining her few issues. "Can you wait here a moment?"

The young lady nodded and Martha quickly sought out Nick and Niamh. After explaining the situation, they agreed to follow her and quickly got into a conversation with the young lady about life at the Barr. They explained the process of acquiring tenancy, how briefs were distributed and even a bit of the politics they had seen within chambers.

"But…What if they never give me any work because I'm new? I could be out for days and…" The woman, Lisa, said.

"It's normal to think that way. I still do, actually," Nick said. "But, as long as you're confident in yourself you'll be fine. I promise."

"My mum's a barrister…That's why I'm here. What if they expect too much of me because of it?"

"That's also normal," Niamh said. "My father's a judge so it's usually thought that I'm always going to do well and that I'll just rise higher and higher and that's bloody hard. You'll only prosper by carving your own path and leaving aside the fact that your mum is a barrister. If you compare yourself too much, you'll fail. Trust me."

As soon as she finished speaking, Stephen stepped over and set a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, Papa?"

"Bob and Lynda want to see you and Nick. Lynda says she's been waiting to meet him."

"Alright. I apologize for this, Lisa."

"No, it's fine. I should find my mum. Thank you for the advice."

Nick and Niamh shrugged and followed Stephen. As they walked, Niamh tried to get close to Nick, but her father put an arm around her waist, keeping her next to him.

"_Papa_," She whined under her breath.

He ignored it and tightened his grip, making it clear that Niamh was _his_ daughter.

Meanwhile, across the room, Martha joined John on the dance floor again, as promised after sharing dances with two other men who asked.

"I'm going to be honest," He said as they danced. "I'd love to spend more time with you."

"Well…I…I don't…" Martha stuttered. It had been awhile since anyone had asked her out and she was at a complete loss for words, wondering why someone like John would be asking _her_ of all people.

"Can I take you out sometime?"

"My schedule's a little…"

"So is mine. Give me your number and I'll give you a ring soon, we can arrange something then."

"Alright," Martha nodded and once the dance ended, they stepped off to the side and quickly exchanged mobile numbers. She thought to ask him for another dance, but he left before she could at his sister's beckoning.

"Sorry, I'm her ride," He confessed.

"That's alright. I guess I'll see you soon."

"I hope so," He replied, boldly ending with a light kiss on her cheek.

Martha blushed as gently put her hand to the spot he kissed as he walked away.

"Who's that?" Darien asked, coming up behind her with a glass of champagne.

"No one," She said, quickly putting the paper with his number in her clutch. "Thank you."

Awhile later, the music came to a stop and everyone stopped to listen to Bob's final words before being dismissed for the night.

"I hope you'll come visit soon," Valerie said as she hugged Niamh.

"I'll try, but I won't promise anything."

"It's alright. Goodnight Niamh," Stephen said, moving a strand of hair out of her face.

"Goodnight Papa. Mum."

Valerie hugged her again and Stephen kissed her head before they left.

"They don't like saying 'goodbye,' do they?" Nick asked from behind.

Niamh shook her head. "Not since I left home. Where's Martha? Isn't she going home with us?"

"She said she had a ride," Nick said with a shrug. "I got your coat."

"Thank you," She said as he helped her into it. "Let's go hail a cab then. Would you like to stay at my flat tonight?"

"Sure," Nick said, offering his arm.

Niamh linked her arm and they headed out, just catching the sight of Martha walking towards the hotel's car park with a man. "Who is _that_?"

"I don't know. But, she was talking with him quite a bit tonight. Well, him and one other man."

"Maybe she's found somebody."

"Maybe," He shrugged, not really interested.

Niamh sighed and took the lead, easily hailing a cab for them. She quickly relayed her address to the driver and cuddled up to Nick's side, gently laying her head on his shoulder like always.

Nick smiled and carefully ran his fingers through her hair, making her sigh contently as she settled against him.

They talked a bit, mainly about mindless things until finally arriving at her block of flats. Once there, they split the cost of the ride and headed upstairs.

Niamh yawned at she slipped her coat off and put it in the coat closet, moving to allow Nick to do the same as she pulled her shoes off. As soon as she set her shoes down, she found herself being pulled into his arms right before his lips met hers in a deep, heavy kiss.

She returned it half-heartedly due to her tiredness and rewarded him with another and then another, stopping once she felt his hands on her back.

"Nick…" She muttered, setting her hands on his chest to shove him off. "Nick…_No_. Not tonight."

"But, Niamh…"

"No. I'm _tired_. I'm going to bed. Your pajamas are still here from last time," She said as she headed into her bedroom, leaving a slightly disappointed Nick behind. Once she was in her room, she set Nick's pajamas aside for him, pulled her own out of a drawer on her dresser and then went into the bathroom. She took her time changing, washing the makeup off her face, brushing her teeth and then finally applying her usual skin cream and moisturizer.

"Your turn," She said to Nick once she returned, finding that he had taken a place in front of her television as she offered him his own pajamas.

"Oh, okay. Cute," He said, eyeing her simple, blue sleep shirt. It stopped a few inches above her knees, had elbow-length sleeves and was adorned with a rhinestone heart in the middle of her chest.

Niamh simply shrugged him off and went back into her room once he took the clothes. She carefully hung her dress up, prepared the bed and climbed into it on the left side.

After taking only a few minutes to change and clean up, Nick turned off the television and decided to join Niamh in bed. He got in on the opposite side and spent a moment observing her, then, he leaned in and gave her a small, light kiss on the cheek. "Sweet dreams, Niamh."

She shifted a bit, but stayed in the same spot and pulled the duvet tighter.

He smiled and lay down opposite her, knowing that she liked her space when sleeping.

Meanwhile, after a slightly long cab ride, a bit of a walk and some mindless conversation, Darien backed Martha up against the wall in his flat. "Wait…What's your name again?" He gasped amidst a series of heated kisses, his mind blurred a bit, mainly by champagne.

"_Martha_," She snapped before being pulled into another kiss.

"Right…" He muttered. He then picked her up and practically threw her on the bed when they reached the bedroom.

She could only moan as he proceeded to rip her clothes off, until she stopped him by flipping him over and doing the same, both having the intent to ravish each other, even if it was for only one night.

Soon, deciding that he wanted to be in charge, Darien flipped Martha over and held her arms above her head. "I don't think so," He whispered.

Fueled by pure lust, it was hot, intense and soon over. Sated and spent, they both fell asleep almost immediately afterwards with Martha being the first to awaken at six the following morning.

'_Where am I?' _She thought, blinking to adjust to the darkness in the room. She sat up a bit and glanced behind her, gasping at the sight of the man next to her. She then lifted the duvet from her body and groaned. _'I've got to get out of here! I have no intent on having him get to know me. __**At all**__. Besides, it's not like we'll meet again,' _She thought, quickly standing to retrieve her clothes. Though she fumbled a bit in the darkness, Martha eventually found everything, including her jewellery, quickly and hastily changed and ran out. Once outside she quickly checked her small handbag and groaned again. _'Shit. I guess I'm stuck taking the underground…'_ She quickly looked around, and, recognizing where she was, she headed off to the nearest station, grateful that her wallet always held her transport card.

A few hours later, at ten, Nick woke in Niamh's bed. He was a bit confused for a moment-until he noticed the violet duvet. He then glanced over and found Niamh curled up next to him.

"Niamh…" He whispered as he gently shook her.

"No…I'm sleepy…" Niamh muttered as she turned away from him, pulling the duvet up as she did so.

"Niamh, you can't spend all day sleeping. It's already ten."

"Yes I can," She muttered. "It's Sunday."

Nick sighed and carefully began lowering her duvet. He then eased her sleeve down her shoulder and kissed it, slowly moving up her shoulder, to her neck.

She sighed and he reached his hand around and began stroking her breasts through her shirt. Knowing she couldn't hold back, Niamh turned her head and they kissed, softly, lingeringly. But, as she turned her body their kisses became deeper and more impassioned.

"I want you…" He whispered.

"Then take me," She replied, ending with another kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Nick smiled against her lips, gently rolled her over and climbed on top of her, quickly capturing her lips again in a series of kisses as she took her hands to his back.

She wasted no time in finding the hem of his shirt and quickly pulled it up and off him, her nails scraping his back as she did so, making him groan.

He then pulled her back for another deep kiss and let her take control of it as he ran a hand up her leg, finding and fiddling with the hem of her nightshirt for awhile before slowly pulling it up and off of her, grateful that she didn't wear a bra to sleep once she was exposed to him. Like always, he began his exploration of her body with her neck, but this time he took care, his kisses gentle and lingering. They had the whole day and had no need to rush through it, nor did they want to. As he moved down, one of his hands lazily ran up and down her side, his fingers drawing patterns on her skin, but, after a moment he stopped and switched sides, using the other hand to caress and fondle one of her breasts as he gently kissed the other, soon drawing her nipple into his mouth to suck on it, alternating between that and teasing it with his tongue, bringing forth a series of moans from her. She then softly gasped at the tiny, intimate kisses and love bites he placed over her flesh before moving to give the second breast the same treatment as the first. Once he finished with that, she grabbed him and pulled him back for a long, deep, heated kiss and releasing him with the same force, allowing him to continue what he started.

Nick eagerly obliged, placing soft kisses on every piece of bare skin he came across, again using his hands to trace patterns on her flesh as he moved down. He slipped his tongue into her navel, making her tremble and sigh with pleasure and then used his teeth to pull her minimal panties from her body. He then moved back up, kissing his way up her leg and then gently easing her thighs apart when he found her. Just her, already hot for him, already wet.

Niamh had to bite her knuckles to keep from crying out as he more than eagerly pleasured her, taking his time, his strokes long and languid.

He stopped just before her sent her over the edge as a tease. As much as he wanted to see her break for him, he had an urge to mess with her that disappeared when she forcefully flipped him over.

"My turn," She whispered huskily, a huge turn-on for him. She then quickly removed his trousers before starting her exploration of _his_ body. She did as he did to her, using her hands to draw patterns as she kissed every piece of skin she came across, her tongue occasionally drawing patterns alongside her hands. Fueled by his moans, she lingered a bit as she moved further down, stopping before she went too far and coming up to kiss him while her hand moved down to stroke him.

"Oh, God…Niamh…" He groaned, part of him wishing that she would stop.

"Is this not enough for you?" She teased, ending with a series of small, teasing kisses as she reached over to the side and pulled open the drawer on her nightstand, easily finding what she was seeking. Then, not waiting for an answer she moved back down and, after teasing for a bit, took him into her mouth. Like he had with her, she took her time, her tongue encircling him the entire time. She looked up at him when she stopped and rose up a bit, using her teeth to rip open the condom package in her hand, knowing that he found it sexy. She wasted no time, pleasuring him in the act of protection and then came back up, straddled him and quickly, eagerly, came down on him.

"Don't even think about it," She whispered, forcing his rising hands back on the bed. She knew he wanted to flip her over, but wouldn't have it. She liked being in charge.

Easily giving up, Nick took his hands to her breasts when she released him.

Niamh threw her head back and moaned as he caressed her, using his fingers to tease her nipples, only adding to her pleasure.

Soon, struck with a sudden inspiration, Nick forced himself up and pulled her into a kiss, changing the position a bit as he did so.

Niamh gasped and held onto him for a bit of support, making the sensations a bit more intense.

Nick groaned, loving the feel of her chest as it rose and fell with every hard breath she took, and soon took his mouth to her breasts again, his tongue replacing his previously teasing hands, making her cry out in pleasure.

They moaned together as it went on, Niamh throwing her head back and crying out again once she was brought to climax, followed almost immediately by Nick. They then stopped for a moment, trying to catch their breath as they finally collapsed together.

"Nice wakeup call, huh?" Nick teased as he ran a hand up her side.

"_Very_ nice wakeup call," Niamh agreed, placing her hand over his. "I want to go again."

"Wha…" Before he had a chance to finish her lips were on his in a soft, deep kiss.

She set her hands on his chest as he pulled her closer, and they exchanged the same thought-that it was going to be a very _long_ morning.


	11. Martha's Date

_**Martha's Date**_

**_A/N: _**Lame title is lame…anyway, here's the first story that's exclusively about Martha. This is the beginning of her love story, obviously. And, by now everyone knows I _do not_ ship Martha/Clive, nor will I ever. I have my reasons, okay? And, I'm going to beg again and say: I really, _**really **_wanted reviews on the recent stuff, mainly to see if I'm writing it right, because Martha can sometimes be difficult to deal with. And, I guess I want someone…anyone to tell me it's alright that I'm completely diverging from canon and everyone else's ideas. Someone to tell me my story isn't completely hated by the fandom, because I've become convinced it is. I'll admit it: It's extremely frustrating to see the stats go up and up and stay at only four reviews. I know people are reading...But, why aren't you saying anything? Is it _really_ THAT bad?

Anyway, I know in this story the brief lapse in confidence Martha has can be construed as out of character, but there are reasons for it. The main being that she's human. She's allowed to be self-conscious at times. We start to get into my background for Martha here too, which, again, diverges from canon. (Personally, I think I make more sense.) And we also see how Niamh is turning her into a girl. One who has a fashion and makeup sense and learns to love shopping, shoes and cute lingerie. This is called character development. Or maybe I'm just justifying screwing up the entirety of Martha's character, you decide.

* * *

_Timeline: Early March 2012, right after the black tie ball_

Martha ran a hand through her hair and let out a sigh of frustration as she flipped through the five pages of form that came with her latest case. _'She has five pages of form…' _She thought. _'Petty theft when she was a teenager…Attempted murder…Fraud charges, two assaults __**and**__ a whole list of minor traffic charges…This may be harder than I thought…' _She set down the binder in her hands and picked up the second one, which detailed the current case and notes from the police questioning session.

'_She denies it…But according to this…' _Martha thought, picking up another paper, _'Her alibi is flawed…The hotel she claimed to be at has no record of her staying there. Hmm…' _She studied the record and a few other documents, occasionally taking notes and working out her defense until her mobile rang. She picked it up without looking, assuming that it was Billy.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Martha Costello?" An unrecognizable voice asked over the line.

"Yes?" Martha replied, just a bit suspicious.

"Martha, it's John."

"John?"

"You know, John Carter. Man who compliments women he just met and sometimes asks them to dance."

In an instant, everything made sense as her memories caught up with her. She now remembered the ball, and his being there and complimenting her after she had run into him by accident. Until now, she had forgotten about the meeting and giving him her mobile number, not that she wanted to. She simply got caught up in her work. She then blushed as she remembered the small kiss he'd left her with and replied,

"Oh, right. How are you, John?"

"Alright. I hope this isn't too soon, but…I was wondering if you were free tonight."

"I have a brief, but I'm sure I could spare an hour or two, why?"

"I want to go out…with you," John replied, fumbling through his words a bit. It had been awhile since he'd really asked anyone out. "If you're okay with that."

Martha smiled. He had seemed so confident when she had met him, but now he was nervous and shy and she found it…cute. _'That's the first time in a while I've ever thought of a man that way…' _She thought as she said, "Of course I am. What did you have in mind?"

"Something simple. Dinner and a film, perhaps?"

Martha thought for a minute and shook her head, though he couldn't see it. She had eaten when she came home, making a full meal a rather bad idea. "I'd love to go to dinner, but I've already eaten… How about ice cream and a film?"

John thought for a moment as he glanced at the clock, thinking that she ate rather early. Finally he said, "I'm okay with that. Is six alright?"

"Sure," Martha replied, and then proceeded to give him her address so that he could pick her up and make it a 'proper' date as he called it.

"I guess I'll see you soon then…" He said.

"See you." With that, she hung up and set her mobile aside to continue working, but, just as she started, what she had agreed to began to sink in and she dropped her pen. _'Wait a minute…I have a __**date**__! A real __**date**__! My God…' _She couldn't remember that last time she had been on a real date and the prospect of it both excited and frightened her. _'How do I even begin to get ready for this?! What am I supposed to wear? What about my hair? He didn't even tell me what film we're going to see!' _Finally, feeling both flustered and just a bit ashamed, Martha picked up her mobile and rang Niamh.

"Niamh?" She said when she finally answered. "Can you come over? It's urgent."

"What do you mean 'urgent'?" Niamh asked as she flipped through her own brief.

"I have a date in two hours and I'm not…exactly sure how I'm supposed to prepare or act…I'm completely lost. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a real date?"

"A long time from the sound of it."

"Can you help or not?"

"I'll be there in half an hour," Niamh promised before hanging up. _'This should be fun…or difficult…It depends on her cooperation,' _She thought as she quickly gathered and pulled on her jacket and shoes before heading out, hoping that she didn't miss the next bus, as that was the quickest way to get there. Luckily, she caught it just in time and arrived far earlier than she predicted.

Martha looked up from her work at the sound of a knock, and quickly ushered Niamh in.

"What exactly do you need help with?" Niamh asked as she slipped out of her coat.

"My hair, my clothes, what I'm supposed to say…_Everything_," Martha admitted.

"What have you prepared so far?"

"Well, my defense is coming along alright, but there are a few details missing, and…"

"No! For your _date,_ Martha!"

"Oh…Well…Nothing."

"Not even your outfit?"

"I'm sorry. I thought my work was a little more important."

Niamh sighed. "It is, usually, but this is your first date in awhile and should take precedence over your work for a few hours. Who asked you out anyway?"

"John."

"_John_?!" Niamh said, the shock clear in her voice and on her face.

"Oh, no. Not our clerk. John Carter, I met him at the ball."

"Oh…Well…We should get started. Since you don't have a lot of time, I'll take care of your outfit while you get in the bath."

"Bath?"

"Yes, a bath. You need to get cleaned up if you're going out."

"But…that seems like a waste of time. Can't I just take a shower?"

"No. You need it to calm down. What time is he picking you up?"

"Six."

"You have an hour and a half, which should be plenty of time for a quick bath if you don't wash your hair," Niamh said as she moved past Martha into the bathroom, where she quickly got to work setting up the bath, her way of saying that Martha didn't have a choice in the matter. After a brief look at the small collection of soaps, washes and bath salts, Niamh decided on using an apple cinnamon solution while Martha left to put her hair up and then returned to her work until Niamh told her the bath was ready.

'_I still think this is a waste of time,' _Martha thought as she stared up at the ceiling and then glanced at the bubbles around her. _'But I guess it's a relaxing waste of time…It's been awhile since I've been able to simply sit and enjoy a long bath…' _It didn't take her long to wash up, and she found herself being grateful that she had remembered to shave the previous night, as the lack of _that_ task bought her more time to sit back and relax until she got sick of it and got out a half hour later. She threw on her dark-blue dressing gown, headed into her bedroom and was met with a mess.

"Niamh?" She asked, unable to find her amongst the piles of clothing.

"What?" Niamh asked, sitting up from her spot by the bed.

"What is all of this?!"

"Your wardrobe. Do own anything other than work clothes?"

"Yes, they're right in front of you."

"But they're…well…boring. They're casual, around the house clothes and far from suitable for a date. Where are you going anyway?"

"We're going out to see a film and get ice cream."

"So, you need something casually classy…Like what I wore on mine and Nick's first date." Niamh said as she rifled through the closet. "Where are the rest of your casual clothes?"

"In the drawers on the wardrobe."

Niamh smiled and immediately went for the top one.

"Except that one…Those are my…pyjamas…" Martha said, trailing off when she opened it anyway.

Niamh let out a small gasp as she rifled through the drawer, "Your pyjamas are _cute_!" She said, quickly pulling out a dark-blue nightshirt with a rhinestone 'M' printed in the middle. "These are adorable. Why don't you wear things like this more often?" She set the shirt aside and held up a long-sleeved, satin, purple top. "Can I borrow this?"

"No." Martha snatched it out of her hands, "It's too big for you and you have plenty of violet in your own wardrobe."

"Where'd you get that?" Niamh gestured toward the nightshirt.

"My mum got it as a gift. Did the rinestoning herself."

"Really?"

Martha nodded. "It's not that impressive compared to the jewelry she makes."

Niamh shrugged, opened the next drawer and began throwing the clothes from it.

"_Niamh_! Stop it!"

"But all of this is…boring! I know you're hiding the good clothes in here somewhere! What about this?" Niamh asked, holding up a short-sleeved white blouse.

"I still have that? I thought I lost it."

"I think it's cute. All we have to do is find other garments that match."

"I usually wear that with a black skirt."

"No. That looks too professional, and we're going for casual. Besides, you _always_ dress like that. Let's try something different…You must have a pair of jeans in here somewhere."

"Bottom drawer, Niamh."

Niamh quickly closed the drawer she was rifling through and opened the next one, pulling out a pair of dark jeans with just a bit of a flared bottom. "Perfect…" She muttered. "Now, about your blouse…"

"What about it?"

"You need something to wear underneath it, but I'm not sure if I want to go for colour or simple white, though I'm leaning towards the latter," Niamh said as she moved down to the last drawer, smiling once she found what she was looking for. "Here, you can wear this underneath," She held up a lacy, white camisole and set it on the bed with the other clothes.

"Niamh, I've only got an hour."

"We have most of it done, now we just need to pick shoes, accessories and underwear."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "Underwear?"

"Yes. You have to wear something cute and it has to match."

"Niamh, we're just going to the cinema, I'm not sleeping with him. He won't see it."

"So? It's supposed to make you feel sexy and if you feel sexy you'll be confident."

"Where the hell do you learn this stuff?"

"It's all instinct, really," Niamh replied, busily rummaging through another drawer. "Don't you have anything that matches?" She muttered as she threw various garments behind her. _'There has to be something in here! And it has to be white, so it won't show too much…Oh, what's this?' _She thought as she felt something satiny. "Where did you get _this_?" She said, pulling out a satin, white lingerie set that consisted of a slight demi-cut bra with a line of sky-blue lace adorning the edge of the cups and just a bit of padding, enough for a slight pushup, and matching bikini panties with the same lace design on the edges.

"It was a Christmas gift from my mum. She thinks I need sexier clothes."

"Well, she's right and this is perfect. The lace is blue, but since it's light, it'll be easily hidden between the layers. Now hurry up and get dressed while I decide on shoes and accessories."

Martha sighed, grabbed the clothes and headed into the bathroom to dress, unsure of the outfit as she looked in the mirror. _'This is…different…Casually classy like Niamh said, but…different._'

She thought as she stepped out and returned to her bedroom.

"You look great!" Niamh said, throwing the shoes she had chosen on the bed with two silver bangles and simple, rhinestone necklace. "One thing though." She stepped over and undid an extra button on Martha's blouse, as she had only undone two.

"Niamh, no," Martha said, moving her hands to adjust it.

"_Yes_," Niamh insisted, grabbing her hands. "You're covered by the lace of the camisole and it shows off just enough cleavage to give you a touch of sexy but not so much that it makes it look like you're showing off or simply trying to get into his bed. Now, put your jewellery and shoes on and I'll do your hair and makeup. We don't have a lot of time, so hurry up."

Martha rolled her eyes and quickly pulled on the patent, peep-toe court shoes Niamh had set on the bed, added the simple accessories and then met her in the bathroom, where she spent only a bit of time on her makeup.

"You want something subtle, like you're going to court, but maybe amped up just a bit," Niamh explained as she picked up the eye shadow palette. "This grey works nicely, and if we add a touch of onyx, it'll give you a nice, smoky-eyed look."

"Niamh, I don't need a makeup lesson."

"_Yes_ you do. It'll help you later."

'_If I remember it,' _Martha thought as Niamh moved on to her lipstick. "The red one."

"I think this light pink one would suit you better…"

"_No_. The red one, it's…bold and adds a bit more touch of colour. Besides, it's my favourite."

"See, you are learning," Niamh smiled and handed over the tube.

"Thank you."

"Now…your hair…" Niamh said as she walked around her in a circle. "I have an idea." At that, she quickly sought out the curling iron, and after a few moments of contemplating, she simply decided to curl Martha's hair at the bottom and used a bit of hairspray to secure the curls. "What do you think?"

"It's cute…"

"Actually I was going for elegance, but that works too."

Martha said nothing and headed back into the bedroom to grab a handbag, biding her remaining time by transferring items from her usual one into it.

"Stand up again," Niamh ordered when she came back in.

Martha sighed and did as she was told, eliciting a smile from Niamh.

"Damn, I'm good," She bragged. "You look _great_. Hot even. Tell me how it goes tomorrow," She finished as she gathered her things and left, not wanting to be in the way when John arrived. After she left, Martha turned back to her work until a knock came at the door. Slowly, she stood up and took in a breath. _'I know it's been awhile…But I can do this,' _She thought as she grabbed her handbag and then finally moved to open the door, finding John standing there in his own pair of dark jeans with a black, button-up shirt, covered by a blue jacket.

"Um…Good evening?" He said and Martha laughed.

"You don't have to be so formal," She said. "It's nice to see you again, John."

Seeing her calm attitude, he relaxed a bit. "Here," He said, presenting her with a small bouquet of white lilies. "I was going to get roses, but I thought they were a bit cliché."

She smiled. "They are and these are lovely. Would you like to come in for a moment? I've got to find a vase."

"Sure," John shrugged as she moved aside to let him in. As she searched the kitchen for a vase, he looked around a bit. "Nice little place you have here," He complimented.

"Thank you," Martha replied. "I apologize for the mess, I've fallen a bit behind on my cleaning, though most of it is paperwork."

"Understandable," He said with a nod. Often times he had run into the same problem with his work and found the lounge covered in papers for days.

'_There it is…'_ She thought as she finally found her vase and moved to fill it with water. "There, perfect," She said as she set it on the counter. "What do you think?"

"They look nice, and so do you."

"Thank you," Martha replied with a slight blush. "Shall we be off then?" She grabbed the jacket that was lying over the sofa as she spoke, not at all surprised when John took it from her and helped her into it.

"I drove here, but I don't think it's necessary to drive up to the cinema," John said.

"It's really not. It's only up the road. What are we going to see, anyway?"

"I didn't look at what was out, so it'll be your choice."

"I usually don't pay attention to films…We'll have to look when we get there."

"Fine with me," John shrugged as they headed up the street. It was silent for a bit, and John took advantage of the distraction to slip his hand into hers.

Startled, Martha looked down and immediately pulled away.

"Sorry," He muttered.

"No, it's fine," She said, quickly grabbing his hand. "You just startled me."

John smiled, and said, "I'm rude."

"What?" Martha asked.

"I forgot to tell you how beautiful you looked."

"No you didn't. You told me I looked nice."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean much on a date. Besides, you look _far_ better than just nice. You…Well…You're gorgeous."

"Thank you. Though, I have to give some credit to Niamh, she picked out my outfit and did my hair and makeup."

"Niamh?"  
"Niamh Cranitch. She's a close friend of mine and a colleague. She was at the ball as well, with her boyfriend and parents. It's kind of a family tradition for her."

"And you?"

"Being honest, I was shocked by the invitation."

"Why?"

"I'd never been invited before and it's such a big event. I never thought I would be invited. Niamh speculates it's because of my moving up to QC."

"When you told me that, I thought you might have been kidding. You look a bit young to be a QC."

"I'm thirty-seven," Martha admitted with a slight blush.

"And you're not married yet?"

"No," She said, slightly insulted.

"Lucky me, then."

She smiled and moved to link her arm with his as they approached the cinema. She didn't recognize most of the titles, so she simply looked up at John. "I don't know any of these films. You pick."

"Alright. How about that one, it's a murder mystery."

"I don't like murder mysteries. They're all predictable and I figure it out far before it ends."

"Alright then…How do you feel about romances?"

"They're okay…I guess," Martha lied, not wanting to admit to him, or anyone for that matter, her secret love for romantic films. They all had the same plot, same stale dialogue, yet, she loved them. Her mum, one of the only people who knew, had speculated that it was simply fantasy. Martha had never been too romantically inclined in real life, more than likely due to her background, but her mother thought that somewhere inside, she was wishing to find her true love.

"Well, it's either that or a horror film. The rest have already started according to the timetable."

"The romance is fine," Martha said, trying to hide both her obvious happiness over the choice and her dislike of horror films.

John said nothing and simply lead her towards the queue that was forming outside.

Remembering a bit of advice from Niamh, Martha took a chance while they were waiting and carefully laid her head on his arm, surprised that he didn't move away.

Though it was a bit uncomfortable at first, John soon smiled. He barely knew this woman, and yet, he felt comfortable with her. He felt that wasn't under any pressure to try and impress her, as she didn't seem like the type who would need it. When they had first met and talked at the ball she was willingly to listen to everything he had to say, not interrupting him with something she deemed 'more interesting' as his last date did a few months back. _'A teacher who was actually a gold digger, she was…' _He thought as the cringe-worthy memory came back to him. After that, he decided to never let his sister set him up on dates _ever_ again.

"What are you thinking about?" Martha asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?"

"You were elsewhere. I could see it in your face. You can always tell when a person is somewhere else by their expression. Some people look lost, others look like they're contemplating the next great invention. It depends on the person.

"And who taught you this?" John asked

"In my case, it comes with my occupation. As a barrister, you learn to read your clients. It helps a great deal to weed out lies and get a proper defense," Martha explained as they finally stepped up to the ticket booth. She waited for John to speak to the boy behind the counter and then reached for her handbag, but as soon as she did, he put his hand on hers.

"Don't. I'll cover. We're on a _date_, remember?"

"I know, but…"

"You haven't done this in a while, have you?"

"No, but ever since I started dating, I would always split the bill. I hate having people pay for me. It…Well…It's a pride thing," Martha admitted.

"You can tell me about it later," John said, "Right now, we have a film to see."

Martha smiled, accepted the hand he held out, and let him lead her inside.

Halfway through the film, once they had settled, Martha, who was fully into the story, sighed contently and laid her head on his shoulder, smiling when he place his hand over hers on the armrest.

John, on the other hand, was bored with the film but did his best not to show it and stay awake, as he wanted to make the most out of his time with her. However, once it was over, he got up as fast as he could after giving Martha a chance to get up, stretch and pull her coat on.

"So, where to next?" He asked once they were outside.

"There's this little ice cream parlor down the road. Best I've ever had, aside from Westman's of course."

"Westman's?"

"It was a small convenience store right up the street from where I grew up. They had a parlor in the back and all the ice cream was handmade. But, after old Mr. Westman died, his son took over and ruined the place. The parlor was taken out and he turned it into some kind of booze and porn shop. Never set foot in there again after that and no ice cream has ever topped it."

"If you don't mind my asking, where are you from?"

"Bolton."

"Ah, I thought I detected a bit of Northern sass in you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I like it."

Martha blushed, unable to respond as they approached the shop.

"After you," John said, stepping aside to open the door for her.

"Thank you."

"Now remember, I'm paying, so you can get whatever you want."

Martha smiled at him, and after a quick glance at the board, she stepped up to the counter.

"What can I get you?" The girl behind it asked.

"Two scoops of strawberry in a dish with a heavy layer of strawberry syrup and real strawberries on top, please."

The girl raised a surprised eyebrow as she wrote it down and asked, "What exactly do you mean by heavy layer?"

"Practically drenched."

The girl raised another eyebrow, but said nothing and then asked John about his order.

"I'll just take two scoops of chocolate with just a drizzle of caramel sauce."

"Alright then. That'll be two pound fifty."

John stepped up to pay, and after he did the girl went off to complete the order, coming back moments later.

"Here you are," She said.

"Thank you," Martha said as John picked up the dishes and nodded to the girl. They chose a small table by the window, and, once they were settled she spoke saying, "You know how old I am and where I'm from, but what about you?"

John gave a small laugh and said, "I'm thirty-four and a London native. My mum lives about a half hour away from where I currently am and about forty-five minutes away from my kids."

"Kids?" Martha asked as she finally ate her first spoonful of ice cream.

"You don't remember? I mentioned them briefly when we met."

"I'm sorry, John, but with all the things going on in my life I can't remember every conversation."

"I'll just tell you again then. I have a boy and a girl. He's eight and she's six."

"Do they have names?"

John laughed again, "Yes. Peter and Sophia. I have a picture here, actually," He said, pulling out his wallet and handing over a photo. "It's an old photo though. It was taken at Christmas time."

Martha smiled as she studied the kids in the picture, and then glanced up. "Who's this?" She asked.

"Who's who?"

"This woman."

"My ex-wife. I'm divorced. She's only in the photo because of the kids. They wanted it to be a happy, family shot."

"Oh. Well, there's a lot worse things that could happen."

"It's a relief to hear that. I haven't dated much since the divorce, mainly for lack of time, but one or two of the few I did date left as soon as I told them."

"Why?"

John shrugged. "Didn't want to deal with the baggage I guess."

"Their loss, then," She said, gently setting a hand on top of his.

"What about you? Any baggage I should know about?"

"Well, I have been told that I'm a workaholic, but I think that applies to all barristers."

"What about your family? You already know a bit about mine."

"I grew up with only my mother. Me dad walked out when I was two, leaving me with her and my aunt," Martha said.

"Oh…Well…" John said, not sure of what to say to that.

"You don't have to say anything. It was all for the best, actually. He was never much of a dad when he was around, and because of it my mum became a strong, independent woman and taught me to be the same. She's happy with her life and perfectly content with the family being just us. If there's one thing I hate, it's people making me out to be a sob story. Sure, we didn't have a lot of money and I had to work harder than a lot of people, but I wouldn't have it any other way. And it's because of that hard work that I hate people paying for things for me. When I was younger I was too proud to admit I wasn't as well off as everyone else, so I refused to let people pay for me. I've even turned down money from my own grandfather because of it."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what about your father? Don't you think about him?"

"No. After he left he never contacted us again. The only thing I know is his name, and I only know that because my mum told me. He wasn't around when I was born, so he got left off the birth certificate."

"No offense, but he sounds like a jerk."

"He was, which is why I don't bother with him. As far as I'm concerned, my family is my mum, aunt and grandfather. I don't have a dad."

"You don't dwell on things, do you?" He asked with a small smile.

"No," Martha shook her head. "It's of no use to do that. I was always taught that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes it can be hard to understand the reason, but dwelling on it won't help, it just makes you miserable. And, now that I've confessed, what's your story?"

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me about your family. It's only fair."

"My story isn't as complex as yours. My father was in the army and was killed in the Gulf War when I was thirteen, and my mum was a nurse but she's retired now. When she's bored she picks up odd jobs. She was never one to sit still."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what about your wife and the divorce?"

"That's a bit of a long story."

"Shorten it then. You can fill in the extra details when you're ready."

"Well, being honest, I wasn't all that much in love with her in the first place. We married because she got pregnant with our son. And, even though we weren't really in love, I didn't want to leave her alone with a baby, and I could never leave someone like that. It wouldn't have been fair to her or Peter. Things were fine for awhile and when he was a little over a year, she found out she was pregnant again and we had Sophia. After that things went downhill. She got involved in some things that I'd rather not get into now, and chose another man over me. I tried to make it work for the kids, but eventually put my foot down and moved out, but only because of her. I filed the paperwork soon afterwards, but it took over a year to get it finalized. There were a lot of days where she didn't show up for court and issues that her barrister found. But it was eventually done and the rest is history."

"How often do you see your kids?"

"Every weekend and school holidays. I want to see them more, but that was the only arrangement she and her barrister would accept. It took two months just to get that sorted out. I know it may seem like a cop out to go with what they wanted to make them shut up, but I was kind of backed into a corner. I wanted to press on, but didn't for lack of money and time. I take them every chance I get and usually pick them up from lessons."

"Lessons?" Martha asked.

John nodded. "Sophia's in ballet and Peter plays the piano. Emily wanted him to take karate, but he didn't want to, and I refused to push him into something he had no interest in."

"I assume Emily is your ex."

John nodded again and then said, "You know, this is kind of heavy stuff for a first date."

"Better to get it all out sooner than later, then I can't say you never told me and there are no accusations of lying."

"True," John said as he watched Martha polish off the last of her ice cream. "I can't believe you ate all of that."

"Don't tell me you're one of those men who think women should stick to salads."

"No, but I will admit that your order surprised me. I'm used to being with women who get a simple, single scoop of ice cream or a cone with no toppings."

"That's stupid. If you're paying then I'm going to get what I like."

"Which is a heap of strawberry, apparently."

"It's my favourite flavour of anything, especially ice cream."

"Mine change, but for ice cream I prefer chocolate," He said right before he finished his.

"Why chocolate?"

"Because I'm not stupid."

Martha laughed as she stood to pull on her coat.

"I could ask the same of you." He stood to pull on his own jacket. "Why strawberry?"

"It was the first ice cream flavour I had and I've been hooked ever since."

John simply nodded and took her hand as they headed out the door.

Once outside, Martha linked her arm with his and said, "When we first met, you mentioned you were a teacher."

"So you _do_ remember the conversation."

"Not _all _of it, but some things stick out."

"Well, I am. I teach history at the secondary school near my flat."

"How did you get into teaching?"

"I just came to me, really. I knew I wanted to help people, which I got from my mum, but couldn't stand to be a doctor or police officer or anything of that sort really. Then, in year seven of school I developed a love of history and even began tutoring some kids that were stuck. They paid for it, but I soon found that it wasn't about the money at all, I just liked helping out and teaching people my passion."

"I hope that's not your only passion…"

"No, I have several, that just happens to be the one that pays the bills."

She gave a small laugh, he smiled and they walked on in silence, simply enjoying each other's company until they stopped in front of Martha's flat.

After a brief, almost awkward silence she said, "I had a lovely time tonight. Thank you for everything." She then tried to walk off, but was stopped when John grabbed her hand.

"Listen…I know this is just our first date and…Well…Would you be offended if I asked to kiss you?"

Martha stopped for a moment, startled by the request, then, she smiled, closed the space between them and replied, "Would you be offended if I said no?"

There was a brief pause as they glanced at each other nervously. Then, Martha set her hands on his chest as she leaned up and pressed her lips to his as he leaned down. It started out small and sweet, but quickly grew deeper as his hands settled on her hips. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been kissed like this, softly enough not to push too far but deep enough to know there was something there. It shot an unknown spark through her body and broke through every level on her hidden, romance meter.

When they finally broke apart, she took a step back, tempted to ask for more.

"Call me when you're free again," John said as he stepped away.

"Y…Yeah…Sure," Martha replied, still in a bit of a daze.

"Goodnight, Martha."

"Goodnight…" She said, though it was more of a whisper.

John simply smiled and walked off to his car while Martha stood watching him for a minute and then stepped and faltered backwards. After taking a second to recover, she made her way inside and leaned against the door and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding in.

'_The first date I've been on in forever and it was...wonderful. I'll have to call him. I __**need**__ to see him again, preferably sooner than later. I can't believe I let him kiss me…He should have stayed...I wanted more…' _She thought, her head running in several different directions. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but knew that it was something and that she _had_ to see him again and _soon_.


	12. Nick and Niamh's Fight

_**Nick and Niamh's Fight**_

_**A/N: **_This is what I consider a huge turning point in the plotline. It sets off a whole other set of events further in the arc…And I'm really, really, really, _really_ hoping it can stir something in my readers. If don't review anything else, at least review _THIS_ one. _PLEASE._

* * *

_Timeline: Mid-March 2012 _

The inspiration hit as Niamh was flipping through her latest brief. With a smile, she shoved it aside and began making plans on a nearby notepad, plans to surprise Nick and put a twist on their usual stay-in dates.

'_He's been having such a hard time lately…two difficult clients in a row,' _She thought as she wrote. _'A nice, home-cooked meal should cheer him up a bit…I'd love to do steak, but I can't afford it right now, besides I'm more in the mood for Italian…' _At that, Niamh stopped, threw the page away and started a new one with her new wave of inspiration. After a half hour of turning over plans in her head, she finally made a decision and headed out, grabbing her belongings as quickly as she could.

"What's the rush?" Martha asked as she entered.

"It's date night and I'm cooking dinner for Nick," Niamh explained as Martha crossed the room to retrieve a book from Nick's desk.

"I saw him earlier and don't remember him saying anything about a date."

"He doesn't know. I decided that I'm going to surprise him at his flat."

"Well, good luck with that. I just came to take back this book he borrowed from my room. Clive needs it now."

Niamh simply shrugged as she slipped her jacket on. "Before I go, I have to ask. How's it going with John?"

"We've only been out three times Niamh. _But_, it is going better than it normally does for me, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. He wants to have our first stay-in date at his flat tomorrow."

"That's pretty big. It takes a lot before a guy becomes comfortable inviting you over."

"You don't think it's too fast, do you?"

"Not if you're both completely comfortable with it," Niamh said as they headed out of the room. "Now, I have to go home, change and then run out to the supermarket."

"Have fun with that," Martha replied as she walked off, grateful that she didn't have to run all over the place.

Niamh ignored her and simply headed out, grateful that she only had a short wait before her usual bus arrived, as she didn't feel like waiting for the tube.

Once she stepped into her flat, she immediately dropped all of her belongings and headed off for a quick shower before dashing into the bedroom to choose and outfit. _'I'm sick of wearing jeans,' _She decided as she closed the bottom drawer on her wardrobe and then looked up at her casual dresses, her attention quickly being drawn to the first one in the row. _'I don't think I've worn this for him yet,' _She thought, pulling out a short-sleeved, violet, skater-style dress adorned with a black belt. _'All I need to do is find some tights and I'll be set. It'll give off a cute and flirty vibe.' _She then pulled open another drawer with a smile, and, after finding a decent pair of tights, matched them and the dress with a pair of black flats and a simple necklace before moving onto her makeup and deciding to use only a few, slight touches of it. She used and lightly applied a dark-violet eye shadow; matching it with a soft, pink lip-stick and gloss and just a touch of blush on her cheeks.

'_Perfect,' _She thought with a twirl in the mirror. _'Now all I have to do is head to the supermarket and then his flat. But…he is working late and may not be home by the time I get there and I don't have a key…wait a minute…I __**don't have a key**__!' _

Niamh frowned as she pulled her coat back on. Nick hadn't given her a key to his flat, yet carried around a key to hers and they had been together since _September_. She quickly pulled out her mobile and dialed Nick's sister.

"Patricia? It's Niamh. I need a favour."

"What?" Patricia asked.

"Can I borrow your key to Nick's flat? I want to surprise him, but…"

"He hasn't given you a key?!" Patricia replied, a hint of shock in her voice.

"Please don't sound so shocked," Niamh said, thinking, _'This is embarrassing enough…' _

"Alright, but are you going to come get it…or…?"  
"Can you meet me at the supermarket by his block of flats? The one right across the street?"

"Sure. I'll text you when I arrive."

"Thank you." At that, Niamh hung up, sighed, and headed out again.

She was halfway through shopping when Patricia arrived with the key on a pink key ring. "Here you are," She said as she presented it.

"Thank you," Niamh said, closing her hand around it with a forced smile as she tried to convince herself that there was no reason to feel embarrassed. No reason to feel slighted by the man she had been friends with for more than a year and dating for six months now because he hadn't given her a key.

"What are you making?" Patricia inquired as Niamh walked on to the next aisle.

"I decided on chicken parmesan. I was in the mood for Italian and Nick has yet to try mine. He's had my mum's though."

"My brother's lucky to have you. He hasn't had the best luck with women in the past. In fact, his last girlfriend had a bad habit of stealing things from his flat."

"Oh."

"I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. I…"

"It's fine. The past is the past for a reason. I have to get going. Thank you again, Patricia."

"No problem," Patricia replied as she headed off.

Soon after she left, Niamh double-checked her ingredients and headed off herself after checking out, grateful that his block of flats was only a short walk across the street and up a few blocks. Once she arrived, she spent a happy hour and a half putting away groceries and setting up for supper, taking breaks in between to do a bit of cleaning here and there, as Nick had not only neglected vacuuming, but had left a pile of dishes in the sink. The moment she put the last dish away, she began searching for the pots and pans she needed for her cooking and got started on her traditional, homemade garlic bread so that Nick would have something to eat when he arrived. Partway through preparation she decided it was too quiet, put on music to fill the silence and quickly started humming to it as she slipped a pan in the oven the same moment Nick stepped up and out of a nearby underground station, thoroughly pissed off with the result of the day's trial. His client still wasn't talking and the prosecution was dragging him into the ground six feet under.

'_And to top it all off I have two more trials lined up…One of them being some crap traffic case,' _He thought with an aggravated sigh. At this point, all he wanted was to go home, shower and settle in front of a pointless film with a beer, maybe give Niamh a ring and invite her over to vent with him. As he made one final turn into the building, he was just grateful that he was home and could relax for awhile. Be somewhere where solicitors weren't screaming at him to do something for a client who wouldn't tell him anything. Somewhere he wasn't constantly being watched and looked after, where people weren't waiting for the one moment where he would screw up and prove he didn't belong at the Barr, something he had been told since he started. He had wanted to show everyone he could make something of himself, but at this point, felt like he accomplished nothing. He figured if he was going to put all this time into a case, he should at least feel like he'd done something useful. With another sigh, he headed for the stairwell, always skipping the lift when he didn't have heavy items since he only lived on the second floor. He felt relief once he reached the door, until he heard the music coming from within.

'_What the hell?' _He thought, taking note of the unlocked door as he pushed the handle down. _'Oh, God. __**No**__.' _He kicked the doorframe in frustration. All he had wanted to do was come home and relax, but was now stuck with someone who would require attention and conversation in his flat. As soon as he stepped inside he saw her fiddling with a pan, eagerly humming along to the radio as she placed something on a serving plate and then reached for her water glass.

"Nick!" She said as soon as she turned around. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in."

"I wouldn't expect you to. You _are_ entertaining the entire floor."

"It is loud, isn't it?" Niamh said as she turned off the stereo. "The bread is ready if you want something now. Unless you'd rather wait for the sauce, which should be done in another minute or so."

"What I want is a shower."

"You've had a bad day." She stepped away from the cooker and approached him, brushing a strand of hair from his face before leaning up to give him a light kiss. "Why don't you go do that and relax while I get supper started? Unless you'd rather I hold off on the food while you unwind a little bit."

"What _is_ all this Niamh?"

"I knew you were having a hard time lately, so I thought a nice home-cooked meal would cheer you up…I guess I thought wrong." She stepped away to turn off the sauce on the cooker to avoid burning it.

"No. I appreciate it; I just had a bad day."

"Which I've added to. I can see it in your face, Nick."

"No, you haven't. I just wished you had given me a ring first," He said, as, out of sheer habit, he picked up Patricia's key and stuffed it into his pocket.

He may as well have slapped her.

"Don't worry Nick. Everything is still in its place. I only fucked up your kitchen."

"What?"

"And don't give your sister any grief about letting me borrow her key. It's not like I went out and made a copy of it."

"Niamh, what are you talking about?"

"Don't stand there and pretend like you don't know," She snapped with a scowl. "Do you know how humiliating it was to even _think_ of asking her for a key? To know we've been together since _September_ and I _still_ can't be trusted!"

"It has nothing to do with trust I just…"

"_Bullshit_ Nicholas! You let me keep clothes here because it's convenient, and you let me stay here and get ready when I need to as long as I keep it clean. Why? Because it's _your_ space. God forbid I leave even a stray pinch of eye-shadow."

"Niamh, stop it. I really don't want to fight with you."

"Too bad, because I want to fight with you! You're irritated because I'm here in _your_ space making myself at home in the kitchen without you here to watch over my every move and make sure I don't put a pot in the wrong place. Do you know what that tells me, Nicholas? It tells me that I'm wasting my time and my feelings because you don't trust me!"

"You're blowing this out of proportion. You just caught me at a bad time is all."

"Don't you _dare_ pull that on me! You're scared to let me in because it's too close to commitment for you!"

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm committed. There's no one else and hasn't been!"

"This isn't about anyone else! It's about you and me. About you pushing me away because of your past. You're afraid this will end like all your other relationships, that I'll push and shove and abuse my privileges. Your sister told me about your thieving ex-girlfriend. I just can't imagine why you'd even think of putting me on the same level with someone like that."

"But, Niamh I didn't…I haven't…"

"_No_. Every time we get together it has to be planned. On _your_ schedule. As long as we work around that, we're fine! God forbid if I change the plans up a little bit, unless it works in your favour, of course! But what about me, Nick? What about things that work for _me_? Have you ever thought of that? Like this. This worked for me, but since it doesn't work for you, it's a waste of my time. Why should I work at cooking you a fucking meal when it ends in incitement?!" In her anger, she quickly snatched up the bread plate and threw it into the sink with a hard crash of stoneware.

"Alright, that's _enough_!" Nick snapped.

"_NO_ it's not! It's never going to be enough! I'm in love with you, Nick! And I want you to be in love with me! I want to make something of this! I want a future together! I don't care what happens in it as long as you're there! So, this? Working on your terms, not being allowed to even think about surprises…It's not enough!"

"Wait a minute….What?"

"Go ahead and run, but don't expect me to follow you! I'm done with this and you. We're _over_."

"Hold on a minute. Will you give me a second to think?"

"You had six months to think! Don't you _dare_ touch me," She warned as he moved toward her. "You had your chance! I gave you everything. I gave you all of me and if you had needed more, I would have given it to you. I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find more and give it to you. That's how you make me feel. That's how I want to love you! I've never felt anything like that before. Unfortunately, I've just found out that I've been wasting my time and I'd rather not stay where I'm not wanted."

"_Fine_. Be pissed off. Break dishes. But don't you _dare_ tell me that I don't want and value you."

"Not the way I need! And trying not to want and holding back from loving you the way I want to…It's killing me." She quickly snatched up her coat and handbag.

"You are not going anywhere," Nick ran forward and slapped a hand on the door to stop her. "I want you to sit down and talk with me. You are not the only one with things to say."

At that, Niamh truly snapped. "_Fuck off,_ Nick! I'm sick of thinking about what you want. I'm _sick_ of caring!" She looked up at him then and he slowly slid his hand off the door. It wasn't anger or heat in her eyes…that he would have just ignored. He would have waited until she cooled off, but he could do nothing about her pain. It broke his heart.

"Niamh, please don't do this…"

She said nothing, slipped out the door and ran, stopping in the lobby to pull on her coat along the way before she headed to the underground, where she stood staring at the routes for what felt like hours. She didn't know where she wanted to go. She just knew she didn't want to go home. She didn't want to be alone, so she simply let her instincts guide her as she struggled to dam the tears in her eyes.

Meanwhile, completely unaware of everything that had just transpired, Martha sat in her flat contemplating her latest brief and picking at the cheese and vegetable tray she had made as supper, not wanting to cook. Music played in the background as she flipped through pages, took notes and occasionally ate, stopping once to get up and finally change into her pyjamas, and then a second time at a knock. At first, she waved it off, thinking it was nothing until it continued.

With a sigh, she set her pen down and forced herself up. "I'm coming, I'm coming," She called, thinking that it was probably someone from chambers offering her more work. Instead, she found a heartbroken Niamh. She was shaking and staring at the ground in an attempt to keep composed, to stop her continuously flowing tears. She had no idea why her feet had led her to Martha's, but she was grateful to have someone there. Someone who would be willing to listen without judging.

"Niamh?" Martha asked after a small silence.

"Martha…" Niamh whined, finally looking up before falling into her arms and sobbing unashamedly.

"Niamh?!" Martha said again, this time with concern rather than surprise as she turned over possible reasons this situation was occurring. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Not like that," Niamh choked out through sobs.

Martha didn't have to think at that point, she understood immediately and quickly ushered Niamh inside, stopping to close the door as she slipped off her coat. "Come with me," She said, wrapping an arm around Niamh as soon as the jacket hit the ground. She led her to the sofa, sat and coaxed Niamh into her arms, holding her like a child.

"I can't stop…I can't make it stop," Niamh choked out.

"You don't have to," Martha soothed.

"How could I be so stupid?" Niamh gripped Martha's nightshirt and let out a loud wail as she finished speaking.

"You're not stupid," Martha reassured as she gently ran her fingers through her hair.

"It hurts. It hurts _so _much. It's like having some terrible illness and…"

"Shush, I know," Martha said.

At that, Niamh stopped talking and simply cried. She choked out raw sobs until her throat burned and there were only silent tears left.

Martha simply listened, offering reassurances when needed. She knew that Niamh had been hurt badly and let her instincts guide her as she comforted her sobbing friend. "Are you ready to talk?" She asked carefully once the noise stopped, desperately wanting context.

After a moment of silence and sniffling, Niamh nodded and said in a hoarse voice, "N…Nick…and I…We…"

"Did you have a fight?"

"No. Not _just_ a fight."

"Tell me about it."

With a loud wail, Niamh relayed all of the details….From having to ask Patricia for a key to Nick's arrival and the subsequent fight.

"How could I be so stupid?" Niamh repeated. "To think that this was a good idea…"

"It _was_ a good idea," Martha replied.

"This just…isn't right. He has a key to my flat…and…"

At that, Martha forced her up and put a gentle hand to her face, not wanting to hear anymore yet. Instead, she wanted Niamh to sit back and relax, take a breather and think about things. "Look at me," She ordered as she slipped a hand under Niamh's chin, forcing her to look up into her eyes. "It's going to be alright, _you're_ going to be alright. I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but broken hearts heal. The cracks will be there for a while, but they'll also heal eventually. Now, listen to me. First, you're going to take a long, hot bath, then, I'm going to get you some ice cream and after your second cry-there will be another."

"Yes, there will," Niamh agreed in a soft whisper.

"After your second cry," Martha repeated. "You and I will talk some more, then you're going to bed and are to sleep until you wake up."

"I'll still be in love with him when I get up."

"Yes," Martha agreed.

"And it will still hurt."

"Yes."

"But…I'll be a bit stronger."

"You will."

"About the ice cream…Extra chocolate syrup?"

Martha gave a sympathetic smile, nodded, "And sprinkles," She promised, quickly handing over tissues as she spoke. "I'm going to set your bath. I know your formula.

Niamh shifted, allowing Martha to get up and then curled up on one side of the couch with her knees to her chest. _'How could this happen…How could I let this happen? Women like me don't get hurt…They're not __**supposed**__ to get hurt…' _She sighed and laid her head on her knees. For years she had put up walls, not allowing herself to be brought down by men. She promised herself when she was young that she would never be one of _those_ girls who was always crying about heartbreak and "the one that got away," only to now find herself in their position. Of course, this was far different than some fake teenage drama, but she imagined it hurt just the same. She sat like that for awhile, only looking up when Martha placed a hand on her shoulder to tell her the bath was ready.

Once in the bath, Niamh ordered herself to stop thinking, but failed in doing so and sat, wallowing in her own sadness for a few minutes before she simply stopped, figuring that it just was not worth it to waste her thoughts on someone who didn't really care for her. What she needed was to relax, not relive recent memories, so, she forced herself to lie back and enjoy the bath as the scent of vanilla and lavender surrounded her. She spent nearly an hour in the bath before she had enough and stepped out, only realizing that she had nothing to wear once she finished drying. With a sigh, she stepped out in only her towel, shivering at the chill in the room. She found Martha reading a brief in the lounge and stood by a wall, carefully asking, "Martha?"

"Hm?" She asked at the sound of her name, stopping and standing once she processed the image in front of her. "I'll get you something to wear. Stay there." She quickly made her way to the bedroom without a second thought and pulled open her pyjama drawer, hastily searching through it for something, anything, that would fit Niamh. Finally, she happened upon something that looked decent and presented it to her. It had been a present from her aunt, but ended up being a size too small due to a small misjudgment on Millie's part. "Here, I know violet is your favourite colour."

"Thank you," Niamh said, gently taking the garment from her. She moved back into the bathroom and quickly dressed, finding the simple, three-quarter inch sleeved, violet sleepshirt a near perfect fit and rather comfortable. She then gathered her clothes and returned to the sofa in the lounge. Once there, she set her clothes out to fold them and shoved them in her handbag. She then looked over at the desk, tempted to investigate the brief, but decided against it and simply sat on the sofa with a sigh.

Moments later, Martha returned, handing her a bowl of vanilla ice cream drowned in chocolate syrup and sprinkles. "With extra chocolate syrup," She said.

"Thanks," Niamh muttered, carefully taking it.

Martha gave her a sympathetic smile and grabbed a brush, taking a place behind her. "Do you mind?" She asked.

Niamh shook her head and sat back as Martha gently brushed through her hair, finding it soothing. It reminded her of the talks she and her mother often had while doing this sort of thing and she found it comforting.

"Why do you think he did it?" Niamh asked after a long silence. "Take the key back, I mean."

"I think he's afraid that it will turn out like his other relationships," Martha replied, having listened carefully when Niamh told her what Patricia had said earlier.

"Do you know how humiliating it was to ask his _sister_ for a key? To know how long we've been together and that I still cannot be trusted."

"It seems to me like he's afraid of giving another woman privileges that were previously abused."

"He's put me on the same level as his thieving ex-girlfriend. That hurts…"

"I know it does."

"Thank you," Niamh said after another silence.

"For what?" Martha asked, setting the brush down as she spoke.

"For listening."

"Anytime."

Niamh gave her a small smile and set down her now-empty bowl. She then sat back a moment as the images came back. The fight, his words, and all of her feelings. "Oh, God…Oh God, Martha…Here comes the second one."

"It's alright," Martha said as Niamh shifted and laid her head in her lap. "Just cry it out," She soothed as she gently rubbed Niamh's back and ran her hands through her hair, letting her cry until she could cry no longer, just as she had done earlier. After she finished, Martha handed over more tissues and said, "You need to rest. You can sleep in my bed if you want. I'll take the sofa."

Niamh simply nodded, and wiped the last of her tears away, following Martha when she got up and headed into the bedroom. There, Martha quickly prepared the bed by pulling back the duvet and throwing on a few extra pillows before allowing Niamh to climb into it.

Once she was settled, Martha draped and extra blanket over her and sat. "Comfortable?" She asked, pushing a strand of hair from Niamh's face.

Niamh nodded and turned away with a long, heartbroken sigh.

Martha rubbed her back with a sympathetic smile. She understood the feelings of a broken heart all too well, having lived through several. She knew the hurt, the anger, the self pity and soon found herself being grateful that she had John, even if she hadn't known him for long. She ended up staying until Niamh fell asleep and then returned to her brief for the trial the following afternoon, quickly finding that she couldn't stand looking at it, not after everything that had happened. With that in mind, she decided to go to bed, figuring that she would just look at it the next morning at chambers, as the trial wasn't until one. With a sigh, she forced herself up and settled herself on the sofa with one of her extra pillows and her favourite blanket, her thoughts drifting back to Niamh one more time before she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The following morning, out of habit, Niamh woke at her normal time and ordered herself to get out of bed, to stop feeling sorry for herself. Instead, she clutched the blanket and lay there, observing pointless trinkets in the room. The curtains were drawn, not that it would have mattered if they were open as, it was still dark. A vase of white lilies and pink hydrangea sat on the nightstand, which was set with a picture she couldn't identify and an alarm clock with a long worn-out snooze button. She let out a long sigh, knowing that she should feel ashamed of being so weak and needy. Ashamed that she had let a man make her feel this way. But, she could only be grateful that Martha had been there, that she'd listened and understood what she needed. She wiped away a tear threatening to fall and turned at the sound of soft shuffling at the door.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Martha said, her voice indicating that she had been up for awhile. It was calm and reassuring rather than sleep-slurred, as it would have been had she come in right after waking.

Niamh said nothing and simply returned to studying the flowers.

Martha sat on the bed and placed a gentle hand on Niamh's shoulder. "Did you sleep?" She asked carefully.

"I did, actually. I guess it was sort of like…an escape route. A way to forget all of my feelings and drift away from my trouble."

"I have an idea. How about we skip going to chambers and have a girl's morning out? We can have breakfast, get our nails done, go shopping…what do you say?"

"No. I…I want to go to chambers."

"Are you sure?" Martha asked, knowing that it might be difficult for her to face Nick.

Niamh nodded. "I know that…If I focus on work, I can put him…it," She corrected herself. "Out of mind for awhile. Focus on trials and clients and justice…But, if I skip work, it gives me time to think, and if I start thinking…"

"I know. In that case, how would you like to work with me, today? You can come to trial as an observer and won't have to be in the room with him today or any day until you're ready."

"Are you sure I won't be a burden?"

"Of course not. Well, not to me anyway. I can't promise that Clive won't mind," Martha said. "Do you really want to go?"

"Yes."

"In that case, I'll find you something to wear. You can give it back later."

"Martha…?" Niamh said, finally forcing herself to sit up.

"Hm?"

"Thank you…for everything."

"It's nothing. I know how it is, trust me," Martha replied, finishing by giving Niamh a light, sisterly kiss on the head. "Now, if you're going to chambers, you have to get up and get ready. I'll look for some clothes."

Niamh nodded and pushed herself up. She retrieved her small bag of emergency toiletries from her handbag and made her way into the bathroom, taking time in brushing her teeth and doing her hair as Martha searched her wardrobe. Finding nothing smaller than her normal clothes, she simply put out an extra set, figuring that she could help Niamh adjust them.

In the bathroom, Niamh quickly and almost frantically searched her bag, unable to find any kind of lipstick to match her makeup. She then remembered that she had taken it out for a touch up in between her cleaning and had left it on Nick's bathroom counter.

'_Dammit!' _She thought with an aggravated groan. _'All that does is prove that I __**am**__ taking over his space!' _

"Something wrong?" Martha asked, joining her moments later.

"Nothing really…I…I just lost my lipstick," Niamh lied.

'_Is that all?' _Martha thought with a soft smile. "Here," She said, choosing and picking up one of her own. "I haven't opened this one yet…Look at me."

Niamh did as she was told, and Martha gently set a hand under her chin, holding her head up as she carefully applied the lipstick.

"Perfect," She said, handing Niamh the tube when she was done. "Go ahead and keep it."

Niamh smiled, truly grateful for all her help.

"There's a set of clothes on the bed for you. I know they're big, but we may be able to fix it."

Niamh simply nodded and stepped out to dress, giving Martha the bathroom. She found that the clothes needed a few adjustments and, after her shower, Martha helped by adding a belt and tweaking what she could before dressing herself and moving into the kitchen to make breakfast.

They stepped into chambers at eight, ignoring the looks from those who passed by, all of them confused by and curious about their matching attire. As they made their way to Martha's room, they passed Nick going over a brief in his and Niamh's room. He and Niamh locked eyes for only half a second before she put her head down and headed on.

"Trouble in paradise?" Clive asked, stepping in moments later with a brief of his own, having been kicked out of his room by Martha.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nick lied.

"I saw the look Niamh's eyes when Martha brought her in. You did something. Word of advice-whatever happens, don't let her guilt trip you. Women are good at that."

Nick gave him a look, slammed his binder shut and headed out, stopping to glance at Niamh's desk, which, was empty, giving the room the same feeling. He sighed and decided to work in the library. Though he had sat down to prepare his defense, it was halfhearted as his mind focused on his own guilt. _'Clive is wrong. I don't need Niamh to guilt-trip me…I can do that myself…Plus, she isn't like that,' _He thought, the image of her leaving from the previous night coming back to him. The look of pain in her eyes had been a huge blow to him, especially knowing that he was the cause of it. He would have been fine if she had slapped him, or left in an angry huff…But her pain was a whole other matter. _'Oh, God. What did I do?' _He thought, immediately making the decision to speak to her. He quickly stood, and without a second thought, made a path for Martha's room.

"Nick!" Martha called, stopping him as she headed the opposite way. "Can I speak with you? It's about your trial."

"Um…Sure?"

He followed her out into the street, where, she set her hands on the rail and looked out at the scenery for a brief moment before turning to him.

"I know that my defense hasn't been perfect," He started. "But I've been…"

"This isn't about the trial. I lied to get you out here," Martha interrupted. "It's about Niamh."

"How do you…?"

"She came to me last night. I figured that she didn't wish to be alone and I don't blame her. You hurt her, Nick. You hurt her _badly_. She was crying when I answered the door."

"Is she alright? I tried calling her, but…"

"Did you honestly think she would answer? She doesn't want anything to do with you," Martha snapped.

"I can't fix it if I don't talk to her. She's in your room, right? If I could just have a few minutes…"

"No." She said coolly, taking note of the sting in his eyes. "I want you to stay away from her for awhile. You both need some space. I want you to think about yourself, what you need, what you want, your plans for the future and how Niamh fits into them. If she doesn't, you better let her down easy. If you don't, I _will_ come after you. You already hurt her once, I will _not_ let you do so again," At that, Martha turned away and headed back inside, leaving Nick to ponder what she had said. She then spent the remainder of her day with Niamh, watching as she overworked herself, going over briefs and preparing defenses until her head hurt. She couldn't help but feel pity for her, knowing how she was trying to forget it all. To forget him despite knowing that he was right down the hall. The broke an hour before the trial to allow time to stop by Niamh's flat for her wig and gown before heading to the courthouse, Martha lying that Niamh was her pupil to get her into the trial as an observer.

The next two weeks went in the same fashion. Niamh walked, talked and healed slowly, putting on the face of a collected, confident woman despite her collapsing heart. The Saturday following the fight, she took Martha up on her offer for a girl's day to escape, thinking that time with the women would do her some good. Together, they gathered Pippa and Felicia and spent the day shopping and pampering themselves, the three other women watching as Niamh put on a smile, pretending to be truly happy with everything rather than hurt and looking for an escape. She even took the time to go visit her parents one Tuesday evening for dinner, being careful about the details she relayed about the fight and hoping her father wouldn't immediately jump up and head to Nick's flat to give him the decking he deserved for making his daughter cry. She knew it would take time to heal, and simply took everything a day at a time, also knowing that she would have to speak to Nick and some point. To figure out what they were going to do, to find out if there was still a relationship, because, even though she had claimed it was over, it wasn't. As stupid as it was to think about, she was in love, and desperately wanted him to return her feelings.

Nick, on the other hand, spent most of his time hiding his rising insanity. Not being able to even say a word to Niamh was driving him crazy. All he wanted was a chance to explain himself, to apologize for making her feel unwanted, but every time he tried, either his mind or Martha held him back. He thought about how it could have gone different constantly, soon figuring that it was useless to dwell on it. It had happened and the important thing now was to face the consequences, own up and apologize.

'_It's been over ten days!' _He thought as he was heading home one evening. _'We work in the same chambers and haven't said a single word since then…Nothing…Not even a small smidgen of legal speak…I need to…No. I __**will**__ fix this.' _He decided, immediately turning away from the underground station. Instead, he headed for the bus, which was the quickest and easiest way to Niamh's. Part of his mind told him to stop, but the other part, the one that ran on instinct told him to keep going. That this was _right_. He had his doubts as he stepped into the building, but easily pushed them aside with each step he climbed.

Once he arrived, he stopped outside of the door, took in a breath and knocked, hoping she was home.

Inside, Niamh looked up from a book at the sound of the knock and quickly rose to answer it, thinking that it was Martha, or Felicia, as they had gotten into a habit of seeing her regularly so that she wouldn't be alone often and, while she appreciated the effort, she found it aggravating at times and was prepared to tell one of them to go away until she actually opened the door.

"Niamh…" Nick started, immediately being interrupted by the door slamming in his face.

Niamh wasn't sure why she had done it. She had simply acted on instinct. Though she kept telling herself she was ready to talk, as soon as she saw him there, she realised that she wasn't. All his presence did was bring back all of her rage.

"Niamh, we need to talk," Nick said from outside, determined to do what he had showed up for. He was sick of their dancing around each other and just wanted closure.

"Leave me alone," Niamh snapped as she leaned against the door.

"If you won't open the door, I'll just talk to you from out here," He decided. "I just wanted to apologize for making you feel unwanted. I swear it wasn't intentional. It's just that…You and my sister were right. I'm hung up on the past a bit too much. I never meant to put you on the same level with the thief, or the cheater or any of them. In fact, I wouldn't even think of it, not for a minute. I _love_ you Niamh. This is going to sound cliché, but you make me feel things that I never even thought about feeling before and it…well…it scares me." He admitted, pausing when he heard the locks on the door click.

"Do you want to come in?" Niamh asked. "So we can…talk without a barrier?"

"I'd like that," Nick said as he carefully stepped in and took off his shoes, knowing that Niamh didn't like people having shoes on inside. He then moved to join her on the sofa. "Can I…?" He asked.

Niamh nodded and they sat in silence for a moment before she finally spoke, asking, "What is it you're scared of?"

Nick sighed. "My feelings. I told you, no one's ever made me feel the way you make me. It's new territory for me and it's scary. And, I'll admit that I was also afraid of letting a woman past my comfort zone. You know that I've done so before, and that every time I did, it turned out badly. My sister told you about the thief, but before her I was with a woman who cheated on me and then flaunted it. So, I would think it's understandable that I took a step back, but on the other hand, I've come to realise that I've been completely unreasonable with you. I didn't even give you the slightest inkling of a chance. I assure you that I didn't mean to. It was all subconscious."

"You have trust issues," Niamh clarified.

"Yes," Nick admitted. "The night we fought…I was having a bad week and all I really wanted to do was go home and relax, then I found you. Someone that would require immediate attention when I didn't want to give a shit about anybody. That was what initially ticked me off in the front of my mind, but I realise now that I was secretly thinking, 'here we go again.' I had another girl who wanted to break boundaries and assert herself into my space, which was wrong of me."

"It's understandable," Niamh said. "I did step in uninvited."

"Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong, I did. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. There was no reason for my reaction, no matter how I try and justify it. Like I said, I never gave you a chance and for that, I'm really sorry. I'm also sorry that you feel you've crossed a line by trying to do something nice for me. Something that I should have appreciated. If I could go back to that exact moment, I'd do it differently, but we can't go back."

Niamh simply nodded, unsure of what he meant.

"We could go _forward_ though. I've missed you Niamh. I've missed touching you, listening to you," He said, carefully placing a hand on top of hers. "Your smile, your voice, your laugh…everything. And, when I realised that…I also realised that you were right. I wasn't valuing you enough. I wasn't taking the time about to appreciate you the way I should have…and if you ask me, it's kind of sad that it took _this_ for me to realise it, but I'm in love with you. I didn't want to admit it to myself at first. I thought that it couldn't be real, but now I know that it is. I don't just want you, I _need_ you and I'll do anything it takes to fulfill that need. I'll run to the ends of the earth and back to satisfy you, give you anything you want…All I ask is that you give me another chance. Let me love you the way you deserve…The way you've been trying to love me all this time. Stay with me Niamh, please."

There was a long silence as she turned over his words and her options in her head. Finally she said, "I _am_ with you."

"But are you here to stay?"

She nodded eagerly. "I love you, Nick. And, I've missed you too. My life is has been so dull without you. Without your cheeky comments for nearly everything, your going out of your way to help me…And, most importantly, your touch. I've been cold without you," She said, leaning in for a kiss. It started out soft, but quickly deepened. It was one of those soft but heavy kisses that said "I love you."

When they finally broke apart, Nick took Niamh's hands and held them as they stared into each other's eyes and the whole world disappeared for a soft, quiet moment before Nick, ever the cheeky bastard, whispered, "Does this mean we get to have hot make-up sex, now?"

Niamh laughed, something she hadn't truly done in days and Nick relished in it, having desperately missed the sound. "Of course," She replied as she threw her arms around him and brought him in for a hard, heavy kiss that he eagerly returned before quickly breaking off.

"What…?" Niamh asked. "Did I…?"

"You didn't do anything," Nick said as he quickly and eagerly gathered her into his arms and headed into the bedroom with her, saying nothing more until he gently laid her on her bed. "I wanted a proper bed," He continued as he climbed on top of her.

Niamh smiled and eagerly threw her arms around him again, pulling him towards her for an eager, hungry kiss that he resisted as a tease. She responded by pressing harder, biting his lower lip until he relented and their tongues engaged in a battle. She took her hands to his hair while he took his to her, attempting to pull at the buttons on her violet cardigan. Noticing this, she quickly pushed him away a bit and propped herself up, taking her own hands to the buttons to prevent Nick from ripping the garment.

However, before she got a chance to even graze the first button, Nick grabbed her hands and pulled her up, quickly urging her into his lap.

Niamh smiled and hooked her arms around his neck as he brought her in for another kiss, taking his hands to the cardigan again, quickly and carefully pulling at the buttons.

Once he flipped the last one open, she pulled away to slip it off and throw it away before returning to his lips and then his neck as she pulled at his blazer, quickly and easily slipping it off, before moving onto to his tie, which also came off with ease. She then moved onto pulling at the buttons on his shirt, pausing to help him slip off her lavender camisole.

"This shirt has too many buttons," She muttered in between kisses.

"You're impatient," Nick observed, taking his lips down to her neck and smiling against the skin as she titled her head back and let out a small sigh of delight.

"I know," She replied as she pulled him back down onto the bed with her, quickly capturing him with a series of deep, hot kisses as she again pulled at the buttons with trembling hands, trying to be careful as to avoid _another_ ripped shirt despite her impatience. Her hands wanted flesh-_his_ flesh. She wanted to touch it, possess it, revel in it. It had been far too long since they had been intimate and her senses were reeling with every little touch. She smiled once she flicked open the last button and finally got to what she had been craving.

Nick groaned as Niamh eagerly ran her hands over his chest, tracing and taking note of every curve, exploring him as if this was their first time, pausing only when he sat up to throw the shirt off. He then leaned down to kiss her again, but she acted quickly and had her lips on his neck before he could even brush hers, groaning again when she nipped at his pulse point, and kissed her way back up to his lips. She then tried to take her hands to his chest again, but was stopped when he grabbed her hands and used them to pin her to the bed.

He started with _her_ neck, kissing and nipping his way down to her breasts, stopping along the way at the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. There, he gently nipped and then sucked at her pulse point with the intention to leave a mark. He wanted everyone to know that she was his and no one else's. He wanted to possess her completely, show her that she was wanted, that she was loved. He was careful as he worked his way down, taking his time with soft kisses and gentle touches. As he moved, he carefully traced patterns on her skin, relishing in the soft gasps and whimpers that escaped her lips. He brushed her navel with his lips as his hands moved down to her jeans. He made quick work of the zipper and wasted no time in slipping them off of her and throwing them to some unknown corner of the room. He then kissed his way back up her body, surprised when she pulled him into a hard kiss, which she quickly took dominance in.

They broke apart because they had to, and as soon as they caught some air, she pulled him back by his hair, using her kisses to distract him as she moved her hands down and pulled at his trousers.

Catching onto what she was doing, he helped her strip him, but resisted when she tried to flip him over, instead he quickly distracted her with another passionate kiss as he slipped his hand under her back and flipped the catch on her strapless bra, which easily slipped away from her. The moment it was gone, he descended upon her breasts, taking his mouth to one and hand to the other. He was rewarded with a long, soft moan as his tongue circled her nipple, teasing it to a taught peak as his hand worked at her other breast, his thumb brushing over that nipple as he took the other into his mouth, earning a series of soft, sensual gasps in response. He took his time, using the moments to truly savour her and taking his time in leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake as he moved to the other breast.

Niamh gripped his hair as she let out another sensual gasp, taking it all in. His gentle touches on her body, the care he was taking with her, everything. However, while she appreciated it, she was also tortured by it. She was desperate for him, having been away from him for so long.

"Nick…Please…" She begged, arching against him demandingly.

Hearing her, he suddenly paused, receiving an aggravated sigh in response. Her eagerness fueled him, but he wanted to take it slowly. To ease back into things. He didn't just want to have sex with her for the sake of making up. He wanted to make love to her. Show her just how much he wanted and loved her. "Slow down, Niamh," He whispered, following up with a soft kiss. "Let me make love to you. Let me _please_ you and appreciate you. Let me show you just how much I want you…how much I love you…" He then moved back down, creating a line of soft kisses down her body, from her neck to her breasts and then down her stomach, his hands again working her skin with patterns. He paused to slip his tongue into her navel and then hooked his thumbs into the waistline of her panties, carefully and slowly slipping them off. He gently parted her legs, kissing his way up her inner thigh as he did so.

Niamh nearly screamed when she felt his tongue on her. He worked her slowly, reveling in the moans he received in response as she tangled a hand in his hair and begged with her body language. She hadn't realised how much she wanted, no, _needed_ this until now.

She let out an aggravated groan when he suddenly paused, delaying her release as he came back up to kiss her and she arched against him again, hoping he would get the hint. He did, but he refused to end it at that point, he was far from done with her.

"What did I tell you about your impatience?" He asked, not giving her a chance to answer as he crushed his lips to hers, his tongue entering her mouth as his fingers slipped into her.

"Oh, _God_," Niamh gasped once she caught her breath. She gripped him tightly, suppressing her moans by kissing him over and over again, her breathing erratic.

Nick watched her expression as he moved faster and stroked harder. Her eyes were glassed over with pure pleasure. Pleasure that he was creating. He took a bit of pride in it as he watched her expression change, her eyes darkening as she tried her hardest not to scream as it hit her. Hard and fast.

"Oh…_Nick_," She cried out.

'_Oh, I'm not done yet,'_ He thought, muffling her cries with a kiss as he reached over and pulled open the drawer on her nightstand, wasting no time in finding and using exactly what he was looking for. The moment he was ready, Niamh, still recovering from the tremours of her orgasm, opened her eyes, locking them with his as he slipped into her.

Her ankles locked around his waist almost immediately, keeping him in place as he worked at setting a steady rhythm for the both of them, a rhythm that he tried to keep slow and even. He wanted to keep up taking his time with her, and while Niamh understood this, she also knew they'd get nowhere if he kept up with it.

"Harder, Nick," She demanded. "Do it _harder_."

With a satisfied smirk, he immediately obliged, slipping a hand under her thigh to bring it back so he could lengthen his thrusts. "Oh, God. I _love_ you," He panted, ending with a strangled groan as he felt her tighten herself around him.

"I know," She gasped in response. "I know you do…Ah!" She threw her head back and let out a shrill whine as everything came crashing down on her a second time. She lost all control of her body, her only ability being to make it breath.

He followed shortly afterwards, moaning her name as he surrendered to the pleasure.

"Fuck, Niamh," He gasped as he collapsed on top of her, his head resting on her breasts. "You _are_ going to be the death of me."

She said nothing, couldn't say anything, really. There were no words to describe how she felt. But, once they finally settled and he moved off of her, she realised exactly how she felt and knew exactly what she wanted to say. "Nick…" She started, tracing circles on his chest as she lay on him.

"Hm?" He asked, absentmindedly playing with her hair.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Will you…move in with me?"

"_What_?"

"Please? I think we're far past trying to bounce back and forth between our flats and…I just… I want you to live with me. I want you to be there when I wake up and to tuck me into bed at night…I want…well, I just want _you_."

"I'll have to think about it. There's a lot of factors to consider and…"

"Then we'll take it slow. There's no need for you to rush in here tomorrow. We can take our time in organising your belongings, selling what you don't need and going over what you do…It's better that way, then we don't forget anything."

"Are you absolutely sure you want this?" He asked.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't. There is one major rule though."

"And what rule is that?"

"Patricia's not allowed to have a key. Don't get me wrong, I like your sister just fine Nick, but the last thing we need is her walking in on us at one AM…_again_. Or her showing up unexpectedly when we have plans…You get the idea. I want it to be _our_ place. You and me and no one else."

Nick laughed. "Agreed. I love her, but it's about time she started fending for herself a bit more and facing her fake drama."

Niamh smiled and drew him in for a soft kiss, and then another…and another. She kissed as if time would stop if she did. When they finally did break, she said, "I _hate_ fighting with you."

"You're crying," Nick observed.

"I guess I'm still getting over it. But, I'm happy. I'm happy I have you and that we're together and both know exactly what we want now."

"I love you," He said back.

Niamh responded with a smile and another kiss as she carefully climbed on top of him. "I know. And now that you've shown me how much you love _me_, it's time for me to return the favour." They kissed then, hard and deep, both sharing the thought that it was going to be a long evening and an even longer road ahead.


	13. Cutest Baby Contest

_**Cutest Baby Contest**_

_**A/N:**_ So, as some of you, if you're still reading, know, I've written a baby Niamh story. Well, I decided I wanted to do something different again, so here's a baby _Martha _story. It's just a cute, little interlude to fill a bit of space while I get caught up on my other things. This one also gives some insight to the background I created for Martha and how her family dynamic is. And, in case anyone (no one) is wondering, the reason her grandfather calls her "Little Lady" is because she was a pretyt small baby and her name means "lady." He said it once and it stuck. Also, I'd really LOVE to know where all my readers went…Because I _know_ the story can't be getting any worse…can it? If it is, I'd kind of like to know so I can stop torturing you guys.

* * *

_Timeline: Mid-to-late March 1975 _

"No, Little Lady. We don't need that," David Costello said as he pulled yet another can of vegetables out of his eight-month-old granddaughter's hands, sighing as he put it back on the shelf and then heard a loud noise behind him as another can hit the trolley basket. "_Martha_," He warned, getting a cheeky smile in response. He sighed again, picked out the items he didn't need and moved the trolley away from the shelf.

Martha frowned as she tried to reach to her left, and then her right, finding that she was too far away from either side of the aisle to continue her game. She then turned to her granddad to give him her usual, 'I hate you' stare.

"Don't look at me like that. This is what happens when you don't behave," David explained, as he did every time they went to the supermarket. He figured that she would eventually get the hint, but had had no luck so far, making him wonder if she was intentionally pushing his buttons or if she was simply too young to understand. He turned back to his list, grabbed what he could and moved on, soon giving Martha a box of baby rice to play with.

She smiled at the noise it made as she moved it around and was kept busy until the checkout lady took the box away from her to scan. Martha whined and glared at the lady, gaining the attention of the woman behind them in line.

"Your daughter is adorable," She said to David.

"Hm?" David looked up at her and then turned to Martha, who smiled at him as if to say 'I know I'm cute.' "Oh, no. She's my _grand_daughter."

"Oh, well…I…"

"It's fine. It's a common mistake."

"It's because she looks just like you. What's her name?"

"Martha."

"Hi, Martha. How are you today?" The woman said as she reached foreword to touch Martha, who recoiled and slapped at her hand.

"She doesn't like strangers touching her," David explained as he handed over the money after seeing the total. He then moved over to the side, stopping by the front windows to pull on his coat and get Martha ready to go outside. "Stay still," He said as he struggled to pull her jacket on.

"She really is cute. Maybe you should enter her in the contest," The woman continued as he pulled Martha out of the child seat and wrapped a blanket around her to keep her warm, as she refused to wear socks and shoes.

"Contest?"

"The cute baby contest. It's being held at a local theatre." She gestured to the flyers on the window directly behind them.

'_This really isn't our kind of thing…' _David thought as he picked up a flyer out of curiosity. _'But…You could win a pushchair…And Martha really needs one of those.' _He glanced towards her, smiling as she looked up at him. "What do you think, Little Lady? Are you cute? Do you want to win a pushchair?"

She simply babbled at him and shifted to look around some more.

"We'll think about it," He said to no one in particular as he headed out.

Once they arrived back at the house, he handed off the groceries to Laura and headed off to change Martha, soon returning to the kitchen with the flyer.

"David, why do we have three more cans of corn?" Laura asked as she sieved through the canned vegetables.

"She did it," He said, pointing to Martha as he spoke.

Laura sighed. "You need to pay better attention…Martha, get out of there." She quickly pulled her out of an empty paper bag.

"I've told you before, it's hard when every time you pick up one can, she drops three more in the trolley."

Ignoring both of them, Martha went around her grandmother to the open pantry. After contemplating for a moment she pulled on a bag of open flour that was sitting on the bottom shelf and squealed as it collided with the floor.

"_Martha_!" Laura gasped, her voice a mixture of frustration and worry.

Martha simply coughed at the cloud of flour she had created. She then shook it off and crawled over the bag, making a bigger mess as it collapsed under her weight.

"Martha, stop," Laura ordered, sighing when she realized the order was useless.

"Now…What were saying about paying attention to her?" David said.

Laura narrowed her eyes. "Not funny. Give your granddaughter a bath."

David shook his head as he stood and then picked Martha up from the floor. "I just changed you and then you do this?"

She coughed again and then sneezed three times in a row.

"Yes, we know you sneeze like Granddad," He teased as he headed upstairs to the bathroom. Getting her into the bath was the easy part. Once she was in the water, Martha settled down and played with her blue rubber duck while David quickly washed her up, being careful to keep the shampoo in her blonde curls and out of her bright, blue eyes. It was getting her _out _that was difficult. She _loved_ taking baths and never liked when bath time was over. This time, she started crying once David pulled her out of the water and wrapped a towel around her.

"Oh, hush, Little Lady" He said. "You can't stay in the bath forever."

Martha ignored him and cried until she realized it wasn't going to help and finally settled down on Granddad's shoulder.

"Good girl," David said, patting her back as he took her into the nursery to dress her. "Why don't we appease Grandma, today?" He pulled something pink from a drawer on the wardrobe once he got her nappy straight and easily pulled on the short-sleeved smock dress, completing the outfit with a nappy cover and a white sunhat that Martha immediately threw off her head with a whine. "Come on, Little Lady. Can't you wear the hat just this once? It would make Grandma very happy." He tried putting it back on her head, only to have her throw it off _again_. "I guess I get the idea," He sighed as he picked her up and took her back downstairs.

"Look who's clean," David announced as he entered the kitchen, where Laura was just finishing with the last of the groceries, the flour gone from the tile floor.

"You're a bad girl," Laura said as she gently took Martha into her own arms. "What do you have to say for yourself for that mess?"

Martha babbled in response and reached for a piece of her grandmother's fringe.

"No, we're not playing with that." Laura quickly moved her hand.

Martha frowned.

"You look like you could use a snack. Do you want a snack?" Laura asked, receiving a look that said, 'stupid questions, Grandma,' in response. She laughed at her look and kissed her on the head. "You think you're cute, don't you?"

"She's not cute, she's cheeky," David said.

"No, she's both."

"Speaking of cute…" He said as Laura set Martha down in her wooden highchair. "I found this today." He set down the flyer while his wife dug through the pantry and poured a small bowl of Cheerios for Martha.

"Cutest Baby Contest?" She read after setting the bowl in front of a smiling Martha.

"There aren't a lot of rules. We just have to put her up on a stage and let people decide if she's cute or not."

"I'm really not fond of the idea, honestly. I don't like the thought of people judging my granddaughter on her looks."

"She's a _baby_, Laura. I don't think it's a big deal," He argued as he glanced at Martha, stood and headed for the fridge. "What really drew me was the idea that we could win a pushchair."

"Doesn't Katherine have a pushchair for her?" Laura asked, watching as he prepared a bottle of apple juice.

"She does, but it's secondhand and not in the best condition. It would be a safety issue to even think of putting Martha in it." He handed his granddaughter the bottle as he spoke, watching as she snatched it and looked up, her eyes saying 'thank you.'

"I still don't like the idea, but it's not my place to say. If you're really considering it, you need to talk to your daughter. This is her child we're talking about."

"Don't worry, I plan to." He thought to say something else, but was interrupted by the telephone, which he answered while Laura watched over and amused Martha.

"Do you want to play?" She asked once she had finished eating. "I'm sure Granddad can dig up a nice hatbox for you."

"Granddad is going to do what?" David asked as he stepped back into the room.

"Give your 'Little Lady' a box to play with so Grandma can look over her account books."

"Of course," He said, picking his granddaughter up and out of her highchair as he spoke. "That was Martin. He wanted to know if we could do supper on Saturday."

"I'm not sure. Katherine has that jewellery show going on for the shop and we're supposed to look after Martha."

"We could always ring Millie and see what she's up to. It's been awhile since she's seen her niece."

"She's been busy with so many things, but I'll give her a ring a bit later."

As soon as Laura finished speaking, Martha whined. She wanted to play, not sit and listen to grownups talk about her.

"Alright, alright." David carried her into the lounge and set her on the carpet. She crawled off towards the sofa while he retrieved her hatbox from the shoe cupboard. "Martha…" He called.

She turned to look at him, eyes widening when she caught site of the box. "Come here, Little Lady." He set the closed box on the floor and sat back as she quickly crawled over to it and squealed in delight.

Martha quickly pulled the top off of it and crawled in. She settled herself in the middle of the box and David picked up the top and gently tapped her on the head with her. She laughed and reached for it, holding it on her head when Granddad finally handed it over. After a few minutes she got bored with sitting, crawled out and waited while her grandfather put the box on its side and rolled it across the carpet. She squealed again and quickly chased after it, rolling it back to him when she caught up to it.

They played this game until Katy came to retrieve her daughter two and a half hours later.

"I'm sorry I'm late," She said as she let herself in. "I had a last minute order to take care of."

"It's fine," David said with a wave of his hand as Martha crawled over and settled herself on top of her mother's foot.

"How's my Little Miss Martha?" Katy cooed as she gently picked her up, smiling when her daughter wrapped her arms around her neck. "Aw, did you miss me?" She asked. "Because I missed you. But, I'm sure you had fun with Granddad, right?"

"We went to the supermarket after her nap," He said.

"How exciting," Katy said to Martha as she babbled away. "Were you a good girl? Hm? Yes. Uh, huh. Interesting," She continued, playing along with her daughter. "She says she was a good girl, is this true?"

"For the most part. I just wish I could get her to stop putting things in the trolley when I turn around."

"Bad girl, Martha! You _know_ better."

"And then there was the flour…"

"What?"

"While your mother was putting the food away Martha got into the pantry and pulled out an open bag of flour. It made a nice mess."

"_Martha_," Katy groaned. "You've been getting into all sorts of trouble today, haven't you?"

Martha responded with a cheeky smile.

"On the upside, she did get a nice bath because of that."

"I'm sure she loved that."

"She did, and then she got a snack."

"My God, you have it _made_," Katy said to Martha. "Would you like to switch places? Can I stay with Granddad while you go to work?"

"You can't stay forever, but I'm sure you could spare a few minutes."

"Why? What did you do?"

"Nothing…yet. There's something I want to run by you. It involves Martha."

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course," David said as he headed off into the kitchen, soon coming back with the flyer.

"Cutest Baby Contest?" Katy read aloud. "I don't like the idea of putting my daughter on stage in front of a room full of strangers who are judging her based on looks."

"Your mother said something similar, which I get. But, I also think it doesn't really matter too much because she's a baby."

"I don't know, Dad. I really don't need a panel of judges to tell me my Little Miss Martha is the cutest baby in Bolton."

Martha looked up at the mention of her name and her mum kissed her head.

"Neither do I, but I was drawn to the idea of winning a pushchair."

"She _has_ a pushchair."

"It's not safe, Katy and you _know_ that. There's a reason we haven't used it."

"We could just buy her one."

"You know we can't afford that. I simply figured that it wouldn't hurt to try and _win _one."

Katy thought for a moment, turning his words over in her head. _'I still don't know if I want him to put my daughter on display…But she __**needs**__ a pushchair. I've wanted to take her on walks for forever, but we've never been able to afford something safe…' _She sighed. "I need some time to think about it."

"That's fine. You can give me your answer tomorrow morning when you drop her off again."

"Time to go home, Martha," Katy said as she gently set her down. "Where's her jacket?"

"On the sofa with her travel blanket."

Katy nodded, and after a fifteen-minute chase, put Martha's jacket on and wrapped her in the blue, monogrammed blanket they always used when taking her out. "Say 'bye-bye' to Granddad."

Martha whined.

"Don't be like that Little Lady. You'll see me tomorrow," David said. "Kenneth is coming over so we can start a project. You can have fun with him and his nephews. They don't have school tomorrow, so they're coming too."

Martha frowned.

"Yes, I know. They took your hatbox last time."

"They took your box? How dare they?" Katy asked, receiving some babble in response. "Yes, I know. Thank you again for looking after her."

"You know it's not a problem. Your mother and I _love_ having her."

Katy smiled as she left and headed for the bus, as she couldn't afford a car. The driver tried to give her some grief about Martha being a baby and a distraction, but she managed to convince him otherwise and sat with Martha in her lap. Luckily, Martha behaved and spent her time looking around at the people and the sites out the window until the bus stopped in front of Katy's block of flats.

When she opened the door, she wasn't surprised to find the flat empty and dirty, as usual. Though she lived with him, Martha's father, David Cutler, was almost a ghost. She never saw him, and when she did he was either drinking, sleeping or screaming at her and wanted absolutely nothing to do with his daughter simply because she existed.

"Well, I guess it's just us again," Katy sighed and Martha looked up at her with an annoyed expression and whined. "What's the matter?" She tried bouncing her, but Martha didn't laugh like she normally did, so her mother stood confused for a moment until she shifted her again. "Oh, I get it. You're aggravated because you had to wait to be changed. Well, Mummy can fix that right now." At that, Katy dropped her belongings and took Martha to her nursery, which was set up almost like the one at her parents' house. The main difference being that their set up was simplistic and only covered the basics, while this room had more to it.

"There, are you happy, now?" She asked her smiling daughter once she finished with her. "Come on. I'll find you something to play with while I clean up a bit and start supper." After some quick thinking, she ended up setting Martha up with a pot and spoon so she could keep an eye on her while she tidied up the kitchen.

'_Not much to choose from here…' _She thought as she scanned the pantry. _'But that's my fault for getting behind on the shopping. I'll have to scrape something together and head out tomorrow after work.' _Katy sighed and finally decided to throw together a simple rice and vegetable dish. As the pots boiled, she contemplated Martha's supper and soon figured she could just eat the same thing she was.

'_I hope she eats this…She's been getting a bit more selective lately…' _Katy thought as she stirred the vegetables again, sighing as the door opened and closed. _'Here we go…' _

"_What_ is that racket?" Cutler snapped.

"Your _daughter_," Katy replied. "Don't step on Martha," She ordered as she heard footsteps.

Martha looked up when her father stepped into the kitchen, immediately dropped the spoon and crawled off. He scared her, always had. Unlike the other grownups she encountered, he was mean and always yelling and never wanted to play. He acted like she didn't exist most of the time, and when he did notice her, it was usually to yell at her for some simple, baby thing.

"You better run…Bloody fucking nipper…" He scowled at her and kicked her abandoned pot over.

"Don't you _dare_ talk about her like that!" Katy snapped. "That's your daughter!"

"No, she's your _mistake_."

"For your information it takes _two _people to make _one_ baby!" Katy growled as she turned off the cooker so the rice wouldn't boil over and moved to drain it. "Or did you forget _that_ too?!"

"Look, I didn't _ask_ for her!"

"But you did nothing to prevent her birth either! The least you could do is _try_ a little bit!" She scowled. They had been having this argument for forever, but it never got them anywhere. "And Martha is _not_ a mistake! You just don't want to take care of someone that's not you!"

"That's _your_ job. You're the woman, aren't you?" Cutler asked with a superior cockiness in his voice that irritated Katherine.

Martha watched them from her spot under the table and whined. She hated it when this happened. It was loud and stressful and Mummy was mad and it was _his_ fault. They continued on until she finally started to cry as her father banged dishes around.

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Cutler snapped at her.

"Leave her _alone_!" Katy snapped as she gently coaxed her daughter out from under the table. "This is your fault!"

Martha gripped her mother's blouse and wailed louder, hoping she'd stop yelling.

"Oh, hush, Martha. It's alright. You're okay, shush…" She soothed, gently rubbing her daughter's back as she did so.

"That's it, I'm out of here. I come home expecting a nice dinner and all I get is _this_."

"Don't you dare pin this on me!" Katy said, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"And why shouldn't I? It's your fault I'm in this fucking mess. You and _her_. Things were just fine until _you_ came along," Cutler snapped the last bit at Martha, who only cried louder as she buried her head into her mother's shoulder. At that, he simply left, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as it quieted down, Martha did too. Her mum soothed her until her cries turned into whimpers and then disappeared. "I'm so sorry, Martha." She said, truly meaning it. _'I never wanted this to happen…And, I keep thinking that maybe, one day a light will come on and he'll realise that he has a responsibility to her…Maybe I should just give up. All we ever do is argue, and when we're not screaming at each other we live in silence…But, I want my daughter to have a father…At least, I think I do…' _She sighed as she set a now-calmed Martha in her highchair. After putting a bib on her, she went back to the counter she had been working at, having had to master screaming and cooking at the same time, mashed the vegetables she planned to give Martha and portioned out the plates of food.

"Here you are," Katy said as she set down Martha's bowl and spoon.

Martha glanced at the food and studied it while her mother sat down next to her. Then, finally finding it suitable, she looked at her mum and repeated her movements with the spoon. She ended up making a decent mess before giving up and whining at her mother, who laughed.

"Oh, Martha," She said as she moved her chair and took the spoon her daughter had set down. "Come on, open up."

Martha did as she was told and let her mother feed her for a bit before taking the spoon back. She tried until deciding she was done with the spoon and food and simply put her hands in the bowl.

"Don't do that," Katy said as she took the bowl away and went about cleaning up her daughter and the floor around her highchair. Sometimes she got frustrated with the messes she made, but knew it was simply part of being a mum.

Once she was clean, Katy pulled Martha out of her chair and set her up by the sink with a few blocks while she did the dishes. After they were all put away she took her time in getting Martha ready for bed by changing both her nappy and clothes, playing for a bit, and finally sitting down to nurse her. Katy noted that she had been nursing less often recently and was starting to prefer solids, but when she did want to, Martha made her opinion very clear.

After Martha was done and put down for the night, Katy sat down to design and put together some jewellery, as she was expected to have two new necklaces done by the following morning. As she worked, she glanced at the still-untouched pushchair lying against a wall in the kitchen, taking note of its condition and immediately going back to the idea her father had presented. She got up and headed over to the counter to look over the flyer he had given her.

'_Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad…He is right that she's just a baby. Besides, I'm sure if she gets frustrated he'll be smart enough to pull her off the stage. And if we manage to win it would take care of this pushchair issue…' _She thought as she read over the flyer again and sighed. _'Why not? It could actually be fun…' _Her decision made, she sat back down and focused on her jewellery until she was ready to go to bed, waking up at her usual time of seven o'clock, unsurprised at the sight of her boyfriend passed out on the sofa.

'_Whatever…' _She thought as she stepped into the nursery and found a half-awake Martha sitting up in her cot. "Good morning," She said.

Martha looked up at her with a blank expression and then turned her head to the side.

Katy picked her up with a small laugh and went about getting both her daughter and herself ready for the day. Being careful to be quiet, not wanting to start the morning off with an argument by waking David up. She was out of the flat on time at eight and had Martha in her grandfather's arms by eight thirty.

"I thought about the contest," She said after giving him the usual rundown of Martha's morning. "And, if you want to sign her up, I'd be alright with it. Just promise me that you'll pull her out if she seems miserable that day."

"You know I will."

"Thanks."

"You better head out before you're late."

"Right. I'll see you later. Bye, Martha." Katy kissed her head, waved and then headed out, leaving Martha alone with Granddad.

"Guess what, Little Lady? You're going to win a pushchair. How does that sound?" David asked, receiving babble in response as she started to wiggle around. "Alright, alright…" He said as she gently set her down and took off her jacket. "Come on Martha, I have a call to make."

Martha followed as he walked away and spent some time crawling under the dining table while David dialed the number on the paper and completed the registration over the phone.

"Baby's name?" The lady on the other end asked.

"Martha Costello," David replied.

"Martha?" The lady asked as if she had heard wrong.

"Yes," He said, wondering why people often had to do a double-take upon hearing her name.

The lady raised an eyebrow that David couldn't see, but wrote it down anyway. "Age?"

"She's eight months."

"And who will be bringing her that afternoon?"

"I will."

"Relation?"

"I'm her grandfather."

"Alright. You're just about set. You're going to have to arrive early to fill out a quick questionnaire about your granddaughter for contest purposes."

"What time would you recommend?"

"Nine at the latest. The contestants are expected to be ready for lineup at ten."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you."

At that, they both hung up and Martha appeared next to David's foot. He looked down at her and picked her up. "Guess what? You're going to be in a contest. And the best part is that you don't have to do anything but be cute. And you're _great_ at that." He kissed her head and she laughed. "Are you laughing at me?" He asked as a knock came at the door.

Upon answering it, he found Kenneth and his two nephews, whom Martha glared at.

"Nice to see you again, Ken. Boys," David nodded to the boys. "You remember Martha."

"She's dopey," The younger of the two, Christopher, said.

"No, she's a baby," David said back as he stepped aside to let them in.

"And you will be nice to her," Kenneth reminded them with a knowing look.

"Yes, Uncle," They replied as David set Martha on the floor and let her crawl off for a moment while he set out a hatbox for her. "She'll find it," He shrugged as he and his friend headed into the kitchen and left the kids alone, sitting at places where they could hover over their model and look after the kids at the same time. The children spent a few hours playing together, or rather, Martha spent a few hours making the boys play by her rules until Granddad came to get her for snack time. Awhile later, they had lunch, with the guests leaving them alone afterwards. The moment they were gone, David put Martha down for a nap and then left her with Laura after she came home from a meeting with a client.

The next few days went very much in the same pattern, except for the two when Millie offered to take Martha for the day to give her parents and sister a break. David thought about the contest, which was to be held the following Saturday, on and off, but never made a big deal of it. He heard people talk about it when he went out and thought the lengths they were going to were ridiculous.

"One woman mentioned teaching her two-year-old son how to tap dance," He said to Laura the night beforehand, having taken Martha for the evening to make it easier on him.

"They're just doing what they think they need to do to win," She replied as she watched Martha fiddle with the pasta they had made for supper. She ate it with her fingers and made a mess, but her grandparents shrugged it off, knowing that messes were simply a part of independent eating.

"I have what I need to win," David said. "My Little Lady."

Martha looked up at the mention of her and then laughed as she picked up a piece of her pasta and threw it at him.

"Martha, _no_," Laura scolded, gently swatting her hand.

Martha frowned, but got the hint and kept the food on her tray for the rest of the meal.

"You need a bath," David decided once they had finished.

"I'll do it this time," Laura offered. "It's your turn to clean the kitchen."

"Yes ma'am," He said, knowing she had seen through his plan to use his granddaughter to get out of dish duty.

"Come on, Martha," Laura said as she picked her up. "It's bath time." As always, the bath went smoothly until she had to get Martha out, but she ended up settling down as she was put into her pyjamas. That night, Laura ended up choosing a pair of blue footie pyjamas printed with polar bears on it. Technically, they were boy's pyjamas, but Katy had bought them because of the bears and Martha loved them, even if they did cover her feet.

"Is Katherine coming tomorrow?" Laura asked as she stepped into the kitchen.

"To the contest? No. She has a few special orders to work on for a birthday party. She said she could put them off, but I told her not to," David said.

"She feels guilty working so much."

"I know she does, but we all know that it's not for nothing. She has to for Martha's sake." He set a gentle hand on his granddaughter's head.

Martha looked up at him and smiled contently. She liked it here. She was warm and safe, and Mummy and Daddy weren't screaming at each other. Though, she liked it better when Mummy was with them, because she was happy when she was with Grandma and Granddad, and that made Martha happy.

David smiled back and carefully took her from Laura, wanting to spend some time with her before bed.

Both her grandparents led her through quiet games with her stacking rings and shapes box before putting her to bed for the night.

The following morning, David came to get her up at seven, and, after changing her, took a half-asleep, barely responsive Martha downstairs for breakfast. "You could at least be excited," He said as he set a bowl of Cheerios in front of her."It's contest day."

Martha gave a half-hearted whine and pawed at her cereal, running her hand through it a couple of times before slowly and sleepily eating.

"You are just not a morning person…" David laughed, getting a Cheerio in the face as a response.

"You deserved that one," Laura said as she presented him with a teacup. "Give her some time to wake up, will you?"

"Fine, fine…" He sighed and watched was Martha continued to slowly eat. Once she decided she was finished with the cereal, Laura gave her a bottle of baby milk and let her finish it off before handing her off to her grandfather.

"She's all yours now," She said.

"Good, because I have to get her dressed and I picked out the perfect outfit," David said as he carried Martha upstairs. He set her on the floor of the nursery while he searched for and found the outfit he had chosen, a short-sleeved, light-blue smock dress with a ruffled, double-layer skirt, and matching nappy cover. He also took a chance and set out ruffled socks to go along with it.

"Come here, Little Lady," He said, grabbing her before she could crawl out the door. He set her on the changing table to dress her, and had no problem until it came to the socks, which he spent ten minutes on. "There," He said once they were on her feet. "Now, let me just get your shoes…" He turned toward the wardrobe and took a minute to dig through it for the white mary-janes that matched the dress. When he finally found them, he turned back around to find Martha exactly as he left her minus the socks. "Where are your socks, Little Lady?"

She simply smiled in response.

David looked down at the floor, sighed and set the shoes down as he picked up the socks. He quickly put them back on her, not giving her a chance to fight and then leaned down for the shoes again, soon feeling something small fall onto his head. He looked up, the sock fell down and Martha tilted her head, her eyes saying, "You are _not_ going to win."

"Alright, fine. You win. No socks."

Martha gave him a cheeky smile and pulled the other sock off.

David sighed and moved onto her jacket, which he got on with some struggle. "Now, let's go find your blanket and get out of here."

She responded with baby gibberish as her grandfather took her back downstairs and wrapped her in her blanket.

"Say bye-bye to Grandma for now. She'll come later," David said as he grabbed the changing bag Laura had prepared, along with a hatbox.

Martha simply watched her grandmother from over his shoulder, both confused and excited. Exited to be going out, but utterly confused as to where she was going all dressed up. And the confusion only increased as time passed and they found themselves in a rather large queue outside the theatre.

'_There's so many people here…' _David thought, looking around at all the adults and children. _'I guess they were all brought here with the same idea…' _He then glanced at Martha, who looked up at him and whined. "What's the matter with my Little Lady?" He asked as he gently bounced her.

Martha whined again and wrapped an arm around him to pull herself closer.

"Are you cold? Is that it? We'll be inside soon, I promise." He adjusted her blanket.

After a few more minutes in the cold, she started to whimper, and was soon wrapped in the extra blanket that had been put into the changing bag.

"Better?" He asked as he rubbed her back and they finally stepped inside.

"Name?" A woman asked once they reached the registration desk.

"Costello."

"David?"

"Yes."

The woman looked up and smiled as she met Martha's curious gaze. "If you're David, then _you_ must be Martha."

Martha smiled at the mentioned of her name.

"You're very pretty, Miss Martha," The woman said as she handed over a paper and a number. "You're also number fourteen."

David looked over the paper, which was the mentioned questionnaire, thanked the woman and walked off to the side to fill it out. After handing it in, he made his way backstage and sat apart from everyone, observing them and their children while Martha sat in his lap playing with a stuffed animal he found in the changing bag. As she played, he noticed some parents fussing over hair, clothes, everything… One to his left was discussing routines and dancing, while another to his left talked about getting in a last-minute practice run while his young daughter screamed in his arms.

'_It's a cuteness contest…not a talent show…' _David thought as he looked down at Martha and was soon joined by a man holding the hand of his year-and-a-half old son. They made small talk while the boy studied Martha curiously.

"Baby?" He said.

"That's right, she's a baby," David replied while Martha babbled and chewed on her teddy's ear.

"Talk?"

"No, she doesn't really talk yet. She's too young."

"Then what's that?" The father asked of Martha's babbling.

"We call that 'speaking Martha.' No one's quite sure what she's saying, but she doesn't seem to mind at all," David explained, stopping when Martha screamed. He quickly looked down and found her fighting with the boy for her teddy bear.

"Joseph! _No_!" The father scolded, quickly slapping his hands. "We _do not_ take things that don't belong to us. Can you apologize to Martha?"

Joseph tilted his head, just a tiny bit confused with his dad's words.

"Say you're sorry," He clarified.

"Sowwy," Joseph muttered.

Martha whined at him in response.

"Never mind her," David said. "Thank you for apologizing. That's very big of you," He praised.

Joseph smiled and then looked up as his mother approached.

"There you are! I feel like I've been looking forever!" She said as she picked her son up. "Auntie has your suit all ready now."

Joseph frowned as his mother carried him off and his father followed after proper departure words were exchanged.

As soon as they were gone, David stood, tired of sitting and took Martha for a brief walk around the theatre, stopping once to change her, and then several other times for conversation until the announcement was made for lineup. "You're number fourteen, so we have time," He said as he set Martha down and pinned her number to her dress.

Martha looked down at it and pulled at it a minute, trying to figure it out, but ultimately left it alone, as it didn't bother her. She would have only had an issue if he dared to put it on her head or feet.

"Good girl," He said when she put the number down. "Here." He handed back her teddy and they played until they called the contestant before her. "Come on, Little Lady." He quickly picked her up off the floor where she had settled and grabbed the box, silently shaking his head as he watched another mum's attempt at making a kid under two dance and perform tricks like a dog. She ended up carrying him off crying, but the emcee ignored it as he flipped pages.

"Thank you, Geoffrey," He said. "Next up is contestant number fourteen, Martha."

David took in a breath and carried her out on stage. He set her down in the middle of it and watched as she looked out at the audience.

Martha wasn't quite sure what to think of all the people watching her. She was a bit confused, but she wasn't bothered by it, as they weren't bothering her. She simply looked around and then crawled out towards the spotlight.

"As we admire Miss Martha, we notice her blonde hair and blue eyes," The emcee read off of his sheet.

As she moved, David picked up the box he had set down, held it up for the audience to see and then put it down in Martha's sights. "Martha…" He called.

Martha stopped, looked over at him and squealed in delight when she noticed the box. In an instant she was at his side and crawling into the box while the audience silently laughed and the Emcee continued reading off details from the questionnaire.

"Martha may be daughter of Katherine, but she is most definitely Granddad's girl. Three words that describe Martha are cute, cheeky and classy," He read with a smile as he watched Martha roll the hatbox across the stage, just happy to be playing, thinking this was a nice change from all the parents who had been trying to force their children to put on a show.

David quickly made his way to where the box was heading and rolled it back to her.

Martha laughed and let it settle in the middle of the stage so she could climb into it again.

"Martha's favourite food is strawberries, her favourite person is her Granddad and her ambition is to make lots of money to support Granddad's habits," The emcee continued.

Martha ignored everything going on around her, just happy to have a hatbox and a space. She smiled at her grandfather as he handed her the lid and let her hold it on her head. She then turned to the audience and judges, curious as to what they were all staring at. She turned the lid over in her hands a few times, set it down and tried to crawl out of the box again, slipping once her hand hit the stage. She let out a surprised squeal as she fell, but did nothing more afterwards. She simply looked around and then propped herself back up with a frustrated frown.

The judges smiled, the audience laughed and Martha was dismissed, her timeslot over.

"Good job, Little Lady," David praised as he picked her up.

Martha whined in response and wiggled around, wanting to keep playing.

"We can play backstage," He said as he put her over his shoulder and the carefully leaned down to retrieve part of the box, the lid being grabbed by a stagehand.

Backstage, he settled in another chair and set Martha in his lap to give her a snack, watching as she settled down when presented with pieces of berry flavoured cereal. Once she finished, he sought out Laura, who had been in the audience and they took Martha for another walk around the theatre.

"I saw you up there with your box," Laura said to her.

Martha laughed and earned a kiss on the head in response.

"No matter what they decide, you'll _always_ be the cutest baby in Bolton."

"Cutest and cheekiest," David added.

Martha laughed again and wrapped an arm around her grandmother's neck as they made their way back to the backstage area, where both they and other children played with Martha until all the contestants were called out on stage for a last round of applause and small awards were given out with Martha receiving two: prettiest eyes and best personality, for which she was given two custom-made rattles.

"Even if we don't win, Grandma's right. You're the cutest," David said as they called the two runner-ups.

"Finally, the moment you've all been waiting for," The emcee said. "Our overall cutest baby and winner of a new pushchair…" There was a pause as he looked over the sheet. "Contestant number fourteen…Miss Martha Costello."

David stepped forward with her, noting how her grandmother cheered her on from the audience. Martha was then given a sash, trophy, and a little crown, which she promptly threw off her head.

"She doesn't do hats," David explained to the stagehand, who laughed it off.

After a quick photo, they were led off the stage and sent out into the hall where two other volunteers were fiddling with the pushchair.

"Blue ribbons or pink?" A lady asked.

"Both," David said.

Martha simply watched, eyes wide as she stared at the black canopy pushchair.

"That's yours," David said as he bounced her. "You won that all by yourself. Okay…Granddad helped a little bit, but it was mostly you, Little Lady."

Once they finished with the ribbons, the two women showed David and Laura how to fold and store it and helped put it in his car. "I think we're going to go see Katy," He said. "I want to show her."

"That's fine. I have a bit of shopping to do."

They exchanged a kiss before he headed off, taking Martha to the handmade jewellery shop where her mother worked. He set the chair up outside the shop and settled Martha in it before heading inside.

"Can I help you?" The girl behind the counter asked.

"Yes, I'm here to see Katy. I'm her father and this is her daughter," David replied politely.

"Who?"

"Katy. Katy Costello," He said, figuring she must be new, as he had never seen her before.

"Ooh…Hold on." The girl headed into the back and soon, Katy emerged.

"Dad? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?" She asked as she stepped out.

"Not at all, I just have a surprise for you. Come closer."

Katy did so and gasped. "My God, this looks expensive. Where did you…?"  
"We won the contest."

"What?"

"Yup."

"Look at _you_," Katy said to Martha. "Did you win this? Did my Little Miss Martha win herself a pushchair?"

Martha babbled in response.

"You did? Good job!"

Martha laughed and reached a hand out.

Katy took it and smiled. "I guess I'm not the only one who thinks you're the cutest baby in Bolton."

Martha simply smiled and looked around the shop.

"I'm going to take her for her first walk, do you want to come?" David asked.

"Let me ask the manager if I can take a break and I'll let you know," She said as she headed off.

After explaining the situation, her manager allowed her a ten minute break, so she took advantage and quickly headed out, pleased to see how happy Martha was with her pushchair and how excited she got while looking at everything. There was a moment where Martha looked up at her and they locked eyes and smiled. They both seemed to know that they needed to take advantage of this peaceful moment, and they did. Just happy to be together and be, as small as it was, a family.


	14. Meeting Peter and Sophia

_**Martha Meets Peter and Sophia**_

_**A/N:**_God, I'm bad with titles. Anyway, this is probably going to be the last part of this tale that will be posted for a long while. First off, because I need to write more and fill in the blanks before the next big arc, and secondly because it's been WAY too quiet lately. No one's updating or reviewing and I'm tired of writing for no one. The stats go up and up, but the reviews stay down. I have to know, is anyone actually reading, or are you all just skimming through it and clicking on and off? I refuse to believe anyone can read every single chapter and have not a word to say. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this while it lasted. I'll come back when I have more…maybe.

* * *

_Timeline: Early April 2012 _

Martha sat, waiting while the speaker for the jury gave the result of a five-day, high profile trial she had been working on. It was a murder charge involving one of the higher up judges in the greater Manchester area. The defendant being a nineteen-year-old boy with a long track record and high suspicions about him. Simply working out the opening had taken a day and half for her.

"On count one of the indictment, have the jury reached a verdict upon which all of you are agreed?" The clerk asked.

"Yes," The speaker replied.

"Do you find the defendant, Patrick Ridgewell guilty or not guilty of murder?"

"Guilty."

Martha inwardly sighed, sitting back as she glanced at Caroline, who tried her best not to smile.

'_Of course she wants to smile…She was the one who told me it was a losing battle to begin with…' _She thought as she stood on the judge's order and then left, wanting to head back to chambers as soon as possible to get started on her newest case. Billy hadn't told her much about it, just that it was a kidnapping and would go on for four days starting the following day.

As soon as she stepped into chambers, she marked the finished case as guilty, put it in the proper pigeon hole for the solicitor and was immediately handed the next case.

"It's been waiting all day," Billy said as he handed it to her.

"I know. I couldn't get down here this morning to look at it. Thank you Billy," Martha replied, quickly looking it over before heading off to her room, her mobile going off as soon as she set the brief down.

"Hello?" She asked upon answering.

"Martha, it's John. Are you still coming over tonight?" John said over the line.

"Of course. Seven, right?"

"Seven."

"I promise I'll be there. I'm sorry about lunch last week. My trial ran over."

"I know. You don't have to keep apologizing."

"I stood you up, John."

"Yes, but you didn't do it on purpose. Stuff happens, Martha."

"Alright, I'll drop it. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Alright, bye."

"Bye," Martha said before she hung up. She then let out a small sigh and then turned to her brief, not looking up when Clive entered the room.

"Martha?" He asked.

"What?"

He said dropped a note on her desk. "From Niamh. She was on her way out and told me to give this to you."

'_What are we? School children?' _Martha thought, looking at the note.

"Oh, and the kidnapping…" Clive started.

"Hm?"

"I'm co-defending."

"Alright. Start looking through it then," She said as she opened the note, which was just Niamh wishing her good luck on her date with a small note to give her a ring a bit later. She then quickly ripped it up before turning back to her work. She and Clive ended up spending three hours reading through pages and working out the opening defense before she decided that she had enough and it was time to leave.

"Wait…What are you doing?" Clive asked as she gathered her things.

"Going home. I can finish this there," She said.

"Why are you in such a rush?"

"Felicia and Niamh are dragging me out tonight again. That's what the note was about," Martha lied. "Give me a ring if you find anything." At that, she headed out before any questions could be asked. Once she stepped into her flat, she set the brief on a table and quickly ran off to her bedroom to throw together an outfit for her date that night. The moment she stepped into the bedroom, she headed to her wardrobe and began sieving through it, soon resorting to just throwing things around the way that Niamh did when they went through the wardrobe days ago.

'_I can't believe we got rid of nearly a third of my clothes! What was she thinking? What was I thinking? Letting her do that…What's this?' _She thought as she ran her hand over something and pulled out a dark, hunter-green skirt. _'I remember this…From that shopping trip I blew sixty pounds on…Do I even have a blouse that matches?' _She quickly gathered the clothes around her and shoved them back in the drawer, opening the one above it shortly afterwards. After a small search, she pulled out a navy-blue wrap blouse and moved on to the last drawer, pulling from it a lacy, white camisole. _'Perfect! Now all I have to do is find some shoes to match…God, I'm turning into Niamh!' _Martha thought as she threw the outfit aside and headed off to do a bit more work on her brief before actually getting ready for the night. At five, she headed into the bathroom for a quick bath, getting out a half hour later and finishing off with a few sprtizes of an after-shower, strawberry body mist. She decided to simply brush out her hair, thinking that it was fine and spent only a small amount of time on her makeup, as it was a casual occasion and didn't call for much. She only used a bit of mascara, a layer of navy-blue eye shadow to match the top and accentuate her eyes and decided on a light-pink lipstick rather than the red she often favoured. After a double-check, she quickly dressed and spent ten minutes searching for proper accessories. Eventually, Martha finally settled on a small, simple, braided silver chain and a pair of rhinestone stud earrings that passed as diamonds.

'_I think I'm getting too good at this…' _Martha thought as she looked herself over in the mirror. She then glanced at the clock, and, realizing she had plenty of time, she sat down to look over a few more details of her brief before heading off. She arrived with time to spare, surprising John when he opened the door.

"Martha…You're early!" He said, flustered due to his not being done with dinner.

"Nice greeting," She teased.

"I'm sorry, I'm just…" He stopped as a timer went off in the background. "Excuse me." He ran off and she let herself in, knowing she was more than welcome.

"It's not a problem, what are you making?"

"Chicken cordon bleu, which is what this timer was for…" John said, muttering the last part as he checked the dish and pulled it from the oven. Then, he turned back to Martha and set his hands on her shoulders. "Now that that's done. You look beautiful," He complimented, ending with a light kiss.

"That's better," Martha teased with a smile.

"I'm really sorry about this, I didn't expect you to be early, and on top of that I got a late start and…"

"It's fine. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No. Everything's done now. I was just hoping to have the plates on the table before you arrived."

Martha simply shrugged and headed back into the lounge. "Do you mind if I put some music on?"

"Not at all," He replied as he quickly got plates out and started to serve the food.

After a quick look through his CD collection, Martha decided on a slow, easy jazz mix and headed back into the kitchen.

"I didn't know you liked this kind of music," He said, remembering what he had seen of her music collection back at her flat.

"I like all kinds of music," Martha replied. "Being honest I've never been too good with people and music has always been my way of making connections. I know it sounds pathetic, but…"

"Not at all," John said as he set the plates on the table, watching as Martha made her way to it and sat. "We all have our quirks, Martha. History has always been my way of connecting with people." He finished, setting two glasses of wine down as he spoke.

"Nice to know I am not alone in weird connections, then," She said with a smile as they finally started to eat, taking occasional breaks in their meal for small talk about whatever came to mind. Martha's cases, John's classes and other odd little happenings in their lives. Finally, near the end, John sighed and decided to finally bring up the reason he asked her over in the first place.

"I'm going to be honest," He started. "I didn't just call you over for dinner."

"What did you call me over for then?"

"Well, we've been together for awhile and…"

"Are you breaking up with me?" Martha asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What? No. Can I start over?"

Martha nodded.

"I'll get to the point then. I think it's time that you met Peter and Sophia."

"You want me to meet your kids?"

"Yes."

Martha narrowed her eyes and gave him a swift kick under the table.

"Ow! _What_ was that for?!" John asked.

"Don't you dare scare me like that again! I honestly thought you were dumping me!"

'_If this is what you do when you __**think**__I'm going to break up with you, I'm scared to find out what will happen if I actually __**do**__…' _John thought.

"Why do you want me to meet them now?"

"Because we've been together for a few weeks and it's better for you to meet them sooner than later. I've avoided it until now because I like to wait until I'm sure things are becoming serious."

"Why is that?" Martha asked.

"I know it sounds selfish, but I don't want to give up after one or two dates simply because their first impression isn't great. I want to be able to give a woman a chance first. Besides, they haven't had the best experience with Emily's boyfriend and I also want to make sure I'm comfortable with my girlfriend meeting them. The extra wait gives me a bit of time to know the woman better than two or three dates would."

"It's not selfish and it makes sense. I went through the same thing with my mum when I was younger and found that we both preferred it when she waited. I liked to know that she was serious and that all the men weren't just quick flings, because she's had a few of those."

"Do you think you're ready to meet the kids?"

Martha nodded. "I'd love to meet them as long as you're comfortable with it."

"If I wasn't I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place," John pointed out.

"When do you want to do it?"

"I only have them on the weekends and there's no holidays coming up…hold on." At that, John got up and headed off into the lounge, immediately coming back with a small, black planner. "Are you free for dinner next Friday?"

"I should be."

"Alright, we'll do it then," He said as he penciled it in. "Are you finished?"

"Yes," She said, knowing he was talking about her plate. "Do you want me to help with the dishes?"

"No. I can do it. You just sit down. I have a surprise for you."

Martha did as she was told and stayed in her spot while John washed the dishes and then started the dishwasher.

"Now that that's done…" He muttered as he made his way to the fridge. "Close your eyes."

Martha did so and, as soon as he said it was okay, opened her eyes to find a silver platter of chocolate covered strawberries in front of her. "John! You _didn't_!" She said.

"I did, for an hour and a half. The chocolate wouldn't cooperate."

In an instant, she was out of her chair and throwing her arms around him.

"I guess I found the way to your heart," He joked. "I was thinking we could eat these and watch a film."

"What kind of film?"

"Anything you want."

"No, I picked last time. It's your turn."

"Give me a moment then," He said as he headed into the lounge with Martha following close behind with the tray. After a quick look, he decided on the only romance film he had laying around, knowing Martha enjoyed them. It had been a gag gift from his brother from last Christmas and remained unopened.

"I've never opened this, so I can't tell you whether it's decent or not," He said.

Martha simply shrugged and settled on the sofa, grabbing a strawberry once she was comfortable. "Dark chocolate?" She asked.

"You said it was your favourite," John replied as he joined her.

Martha smiled. She would never say it aloud, but he knew that she _loved_ when he remembered the small details she told him about herself. She moved closer to him, and they spent some time laughing and eating before settling down to watch the film.

He leaned against the edge of the sofa near the arm and she leaned on him, gently laying her head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around her. Once they were settled, he gave her a light kiss on the head and she sighed contently, soon getting wrapped up in the film's story while he fought to stay awake at times.

'_I will never understand what women see in these films…' _He thought. _'They all have the same plot. Man meets woman, they fall in love, they fight, makeup and then get married. They could at least add some mystery. That, I could take. But she doesn't like murder stories.' _He was suddenly awake as it ended, glad that he didn't have to sit through it anymore. He then waited until Martha sat up to get up, stop the film and take the DVD from the player.

"It's not the best one I've seen, but it was decent," Martha concluded.

"Martha, it had the same plot as every other romance out there. Single, independent woman not looking for love just happens to run into it."

"Sounds like us," She pointed out.

"Except I didn't have to stalk you to make you like me."

"All it took was a little phone call," She said as he made his way back to the sofa.

"And some luck on my end. I haven't had the best dating experiences since the divorce," John admitted.

"But that doesn't matter now, _right_?" Martha insisted.

"Not when I have you," John replied, ending with a soft kiss that quickly grew deeper as Martha moved closer.

She eagerly returned the kiss with several more and John wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her right where he wanted her.

'_What are we doing?' _Martha thought.

'_It's like we're a couple of teenagers! And…It's __**hot**__,' _John thought as Martha softly moaned against his lips. Eventually, he forced himself to stop and quickly pulled away, afraid that it might go too far if they kept going.

"I should probably leave…I have a big trial tomorrow," Martha said.

"Martha," John grabbed her wrist as she got up. "I'm sorry, I just…I don't want…"

"I know. Don't worry about it," She said with a smile. "But it's late. I really do have to go. I want to get _some_ work in before bed. I'll see you when I can." She then moved to grab her jacket, not at all surprised when he hung back and then opened the door for her. "Thank you for dinner. It was lovely," She complimented, leaving him with a light kiss.

"I'll call you soon," John promised, watching as she left and headed down the stairs at the end of the hall.

Once at home, Martha immediately got back to work on the brief, overlooking the details given and working out the opening defense.

'_There's evidence of the child's fingerprints in the vehicle and his in the house…It's all slam-dunk forensics and the prosecution will know that…We just have to find the reason for this…But there's no mention of a family relation between the child and the captor cutting out the reason of a simple ride,' _She thought, sighing as she flipped a page and then glanced at the clock. _'It's past twelve…I should probably get changed.' _At that, she got up, headed into the bedroom and changed into a simple, blue, satin pyjama set before returning to work. She ended up working up until two AM before finally deciding to sleep, knowing she'd have to be up in four hours. However, just an hour later she was woken up by her mobile, which she answered after glaring at the ID.

"_What_ Clive?!" She snapped.

"I think I may have found a loophole that…are you okay?" Clive asked on the other line.

"Of course not! You woke me up! It's three in the bloody morning for God's sakes!" Martha snapped.

"Oh, well…I think I may have…"

"Goodnight, Clive," She snapped, cutting the call off a third of the way through his explanation. She then put the ringer on silent, turned over and went back to sleep.

When she woke three hours later, Martha found two missed calls from Clive and a sweet text from John wishing her a good day. She smiled at John's message and sighed at the calls, deciding to ignore Clive for the time being. Instead, she got up to take her shower and called him back when she was finished and fully dressed.

"Martha?" He asked when he answered.

"What did you want last night?" She asked.

"I looked into some of the unused and it turns out the victim is the client's niece."

"And with family relation we can make a better argument…I hope."

"When's the con, again?"

"At ten. Trial starts at eleven thirty."

"Alright," Clive made a mental note and then hung up.

Martha let out an aggravated sigh, threw together something for breakfast and immediately went back to work, wanting to be fully prepared before she arrived for the pre-trial con. She was in chambers at eight, looking over notes with Clive for an hour or so before they headed off to court. Unfortunately, the information the client gave them wasn't much help, but, regardless both Martha and Clive tried their best to present a decent defense in hopes of getting their clients off.

"I'm not sure about that," Martha said as they left the courthouse after the post-trial con.

"Not sure about what?" Clive asked.

"The defense. The prosecution tore it down. We need to find more hidden details," She said as they approached her car. "You're not coming," She added when Clive reached for the door.

"But, Martha, what…?"

"I'm meeting Niamh for lunch," She explained as she climbed in.

"How am I supposed to get back?"

"We've been over this, Clive. Take the underground."

"The tube?" He asked with a disgusted look.

Martha said nothing and simply drove off. She arrived at Niamh's flat a few minutes late, but she knew it wouldn't be a big deal.

"It's open!" Niamh called when Martha knocked.

Martha opened the door to find Niamh putting the finishing touches on a pork dish, a purple apron covering her court clothes. "How'd your trial go?" She asked.

"Alright. My codefendant is basically useless though," Niamh said as she threw the apron off.

"I see more of Nick's stuff has made its way here," Martha pointed out, eyeing the box of clothing in the corner.

Nick and Niamh had been working on moving in together for nearly a month, but were doing it slowly to make sure they had time to put it all together and that they didn't forget anything.

Niamh nodded. "He dropped it off before we went to chambers this morning. It's the last box of clothing we have to go through. All that's left is the stuff he knows he's keeping. That'll be the last thing brought over. He's working on selling the furniture he doesn't need."

Martha simply nodded as she sat down at the table. "Thank you for inviting me over," She said.

"No problem. I felt like cooking for someone and Nick has two back-to-back trials."

"So he's getting better work?"

"It fluxuates really. Some trials are good, like the murders, but others are small and boring like traffic cases," Niamh explained as they finally began to eat.

"What is this?" Martha asked halfway through the meal.

"A Thai-inspired pork dish. It's something new I'm trying out. What do you think?"

"I like it. It's different than what I'm used to, but it's _really_ good."

"Are you sure? I think it could use a bit of tweaking here and there…"

"Try it then. You're a chef, aren't you?"

"Not by profession, but, yes," Niamh said. "How's it going with John?" She asked, wanting a change in subject.

"It's going great, actually."

"Actually?"

"It's been a _long_ time since I've been in a relationship, especially one not rife with fake drama and jealousy."

"So, he's grounded?"

"I like to think so. He wants me to meet his kids."

"Wait…what?"

Martha nodded. "We're all having dinner together on Friday. Next Friday," She added, not wanting Niamh to think she had only been given two days' notice, since it was a Thursday.

"Why'd he wait so long? It's been over a month, hasn't it?"

"He likes to wait to make sure he's comfortable with his girlfriends being around his kids, plus it helps him form his own opinion instead of dumping a woman simply because Peter and Sophia's first impressions aren't great."

"Isn't that a bit selfish?"

"Not really. I makes sense to me. I'd hate to be dumped after two or three dates just because the kids say I'm not suitable. Besides, it's more of a case-by-case thing."

"True," Niamh agreed as she picked up their plates. "Do you want something for dessert? I made cookies last night."

"What kind of cookies?"

"Double chocolate."

"Alright, I'll try one."

Niamh smiled and retrieved one from the jar on the counter before moving onto the dishes.

"Do you want some help?" Martha asked.

"No, I've got it."

"I guess I'll head out then. Thank you for lunch."

"I told you, it's no problem," Niamh said with a smile as Martha left. She ended up going to Clive's flat rather than home to go over what they had said that day and create a better defense.

"So, one is the victim's uncle, but what about the other?"

"The boy is a friend of his brought along for the ride. It looks like."

"So you've got the easy client," Martha sighed.

"They're in the same level of trouble, Martha," Clive said.

"No they're not. You can argue naivety and him just being an accessory. I'm the one who got screwed over," She snapped as she gathered her things.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I'm not letting you cut my throat, _again_." At that, Martha left. They had done a case similar to this one before, with Clive's client being lower on the list and easier to get off. Not only had he gotten a lower sentence, but his defense had made the sentence of Martha's client longer and harsher.

She returned home a little after seven and, as soon as she was in the door, she ran off to get changed and threw together a small dinner before getting back to work, only to be interrupted less than an hour after she started by a knock. Confused, she answered the door and found Billy.

"Billy?" She asked.

"Can I come in? I didn't get a chance to talk with you today." Billy said.

"Come in," Martha sighed motioning him in as she walked away. She headed into the kitchen, ready to grab two drinks, and suddenly turned at the sound of a 'thump' behind her. "_What_ is that?!" She said, eyeing the huge brief on the table.

"Just came in today. A huge drug charge for heroine importation. It's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"When's it start?"

"Monday."

"My kidnapping trial runs until Tuesday," She reminded him.

"Come on. If anyone can handle it, you can."

"What time?"

"Two. Which is fine because the kidnapping is at ten."

"But no one knows how long it'll go on for."

"This one is the third on in court five. Isn't the other the first?"

"Yes."

"The solicitor originally wanted you to do a murder, but I had to tell him no."

"Why?" Martha asked with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall.

"Conflict of interest with the judge," Billy explained. "Niamh's father is doing the murder."

Martha nodded, knowing his concern. "Do I have a choice?"

"Yes, but it would probably be better for you to take this on."

"Can I think about it and give you my answer tomorrow?" She asked, turning back to the fridge.

"First thing."

Martha nodded in agreement and handed him a beer. "It's not that I don't want to do it. I do, it's just…"

"I know, I know. You're already booked through next month."

"And I haven't even received half those briefs yet."

"You will in time," Billy assured her, then he stopped and tilted his head. "What does your shirt say?" He asked, eyeing the design on her light-blue nightshirt.

"Hm?" Martha said. She looked down at the small, sleeping teddy bear emblem with the cute, blue letters underneath. "Bearly Awake," She read.

Billy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more about it. They talked about court and chambers matters until he finished his drink and left Martha with her two briefs. After looking the new one over for a bit, she decided to take it on and then shifted focus to her current trial, knowing it was going to be a _long_ night.

She ended up not going to bed until three AM, and was back up again at six to prepare for her trial at eleven. However, this time she was going in alone, wanting nothing to do with Clive and his opportunity to cut her throat. By the end of that day's session, things were still looking bad for her client, but she was determined to press on. Unfortunately, when it was all over the following Tuesday both clients ended up with a guilty verdict, though she did manage to get the sentence lowered a bit. She then put all her effort into the drug case she had been given, which ended on Friday with a not guilty verdict, due to a lack of forensic evidence and Martha's well thought out defense.

As soon as she stepped out of the courtroom after the conclusion of the trial, her mobile went off and, after glancing at the ID, she answered, "John?"

"I don't have much time," John said. "I just wanted to confirm our date tonight."

"It's still on. What time am I supposed to be there, again?"

"Six. Emily's dropping the kids off after Peter's piano lesson. I should have dinner ready by then too."

"Don't make dinner," Martha said.

"What?"

"You heard me. I think that should wait until Peter and Sophia arrive. We could all make dinner together."

"What?" John repeated.

"I remember doing that with my mother and a boyfriend when I was twelve. He was a chef and wanted to cook with me to get to know me better. It worked well and I was more at ease with him after that. It takes away some of the tension."

John thought for a minute and said, "That actually sounds like a good idea. But, I was going to make spaghetti and…"

"Then they can help make meatballs and add vegetables to the sauce, things like that."

"Are you sure you're not a mum?"

"I'm sure. I've just been there, done that."

"I'll see you later then. I'd talk more but my lunch is up and…"

"It's fine. Bye," At that, Martha hung up and walked off. Upon arriving back to chambers she marked the brief and set it up to be sent back to the solicitor. She then got to work on her latest, which Billy had given her the previous day.

'_It looks like another scorned woman case…' _Martha thought as she flipped through it. _'Though in this case, it appears like she was the victim. Her husband has three pages of form…It ranges from petty theft to domestic abuse charges…Plus there's the matter of their two daughters.' _She ran a hand through her hair as she looked more into it and carefully took notes, loosing track of time for awhile until Clive came in.

"Do you ever go home?" He asked.

"Yes. It's not that late it's only…Five fifteen…" She said, trailing off when she looked at the clock. She then stood and quickly gathered her things "I have to go."

"Why? You have a date or something?"

"Yes, with Niamh and Felicia," Martha lied when she finally left. _'I wanted to go home and change…But I guess this will have to do. At least I look professional. Maybe that'll help me gain points with the kids. I should touch up my makeup though…'_ She thought, quickly ducking into the bathroom as soon as she thought of it. She ended up reapplying her lipstick and gloss, touching up her mascara and adding a bit of coral-coloured blush before taking a brush to her hair and then heading off. She arrived at John's flat with time to spare and was grateful to be early, as it gave her a bit of time to prepare for the meeting.

"You're early, as usual," John said when he opened the door, wearing a casual outfit that consisted of jeans and a dark-green t-shirt.

"I'm sorry I don't look better. I got caught up with my work at chambers and left from there."

"It's fine. You look nice," He said, ending with a light kiss on her cheek. "Can I take your coat?"

Martha nodded, removed and handed over the jacket she was wearing over her tailored, navy-blue, skirt suit, which she had matched with a simple, white blouse and her usual, black stockings. She then headed into the kitchen and nodded at the setup. "It's already set up," She said.

"I had to make sure I had everything, so I started as soon as I came home. Would you like something to drink? I bought wine for us," He said.

"Sure," She replied with a smile.

John smiled back and quickly got out two wine glasses before pulling the bottle from a cabinet above him.

"Thank you," Martha said as he handed her a glass.

"So…how was your day?" He asked.

"Good. I ended up winning the drug trial and I have a murder that starts on Monday. You?"

"I'm not doing anything special."

"Come on, there must be something going on."

John thought for a minute and said, "Nope. Nothing. Unless you count the dances I get to chaperone next month."

"I don't. What about the kids? Are they doing anything interesting?"

"You can ask them that when they get here."

"Alright," Martha nodded and then downed the rest of her wine. "What's this?" She asked, reaching for a binder lying on the counter.

"Just some tests that need grading," John replied as she flipped through them.

"Well, he failed," Martha said as she turned a page. "And so did she. Did nobody study?"

He pulled it away from her. "They did study. Most of the students in my fourth period got decent grades, those two are just notorious for not studying and gliding along. Besides, it's not your business."

"You act like I'm a child. I don't even know these kids," She pointed out as she poured another glass of wine.

"I'm not arguing this."

"_Fine_," She sighed, running her finger along the edge of the wine glass.

"I will tell you, though, that both of those kids need to step up. They have a big project due at the end of the month."

"What kind of project?"

"A PowerPoint report. I told them to take a significant event in history and present a report. They've had it since the middle of last month."

"And with that much time you expect top quality work."

"Exactly. Though I know these two will wait until the last minute…or pay someone to do it. That's been popular lately."

Martha simply nodded as a knock came at the door.

"That's them. Hide in the hallway."

"What?"

"I want to formally introduce you. If they see you right away it can get awkward. I want to talk to them about it first."

"Alright," Martha said as she got up, knowing better than to argue. She stood in the middle of the hall and leaned against a wall, hearing footsteps and voices as John let the kids in.

"Where's your mum?" He asked.

"Going on a date," Peter replied as Sophia threw her arms around her father.

"I know you're here, Sophia," John said, setting a gentle hand on her head before kneeling down to their level. "Settle down for a minute," He ordered after they had removed their coats and shoes. "There's someone I want you to meet."

Both kids stopped bouncing around immediately and looked at him.

"She's very important to me, and I expect you to be respectful," He said, a hint of warning in his voice. "Come on," He called to Martha.

Taking it as her cue, Martha stepped into the lounge, smiling at the kids as she approached them. Peter, she saw, was of average height and had inherited his father's brown hair, his was just messier and longer than John's, it was matched with brown eyes, which she assumed he got from his mother. He still wore his school uniform, which consisted of black trousers, a white dress shirt, and a blue sweater with the school's emblem on the breast. Sophia, on the other hand, was a bit small for her age and, had a slight, olive tint to her skin and black hair pulled into pigtails. She had John's green eyes and was wearing a simple, casual outfit that consisted of jeans and a long, pink shirt with short, ruffled sleeves and a silver necklace with a pink gem hanging off of it.

"Peter, Sophia…This is my girlfriend, Ms. Costello," John said, stepping back as Martha knelt down to the kids' level.

There was a small, awkward silence as everyone looked each other over. Then, deeming her alright, Peter held out his hand and said, "Nice to meet you Ms. Costello. I'm Peter."

"Hello, Peter," Martha replied, shaking his hand as she spoke. "I can see that you're a nice, well-mannered gentleman."

"What do you do?" He asked, looking at her suit.

"I'm a barrister."

He simply nodded and Martha turned to Sophia, who tilted her head.

"Your necklace says 'Martha,'" She said.

Martha fiddled with the jewellery for a minute, having forgotten that she had chosen to wear her name necklace that day.

"Martha Costello…" Sophia said in a way that sounded as if she was _testing _the name. "You don't look like a barrister."

"Well, I am."

"Where's your wig?"

"We only wear those in court, Sweetheart."

"Why?"

"Well…Because we would all look quite silly if we wore them _all_ the time," Martha said, unsure of the rule herself and how to explain it to a six-year-old.

"You talk funny."

"_Sophia_," John warned. "That's rude."

"Sorry," Sophia said to Martha.

"It's alright. I'll let it go this time. I'm originally from Bolton, which is why I talk the way I do. My accent used to be stronger, but it's kind of…dwindled down since I moved to London years ago."

"Where's Bolton?"

"Up north in the Greater Manchester area."

Sophia simply nodded and then looked up at her father as Martha stood back up.

John put an arm around her waist and turned towards the kids, "Why don't you two go get settled and meet us in the kitchen?"

"Alright," Peter shrugged.

"Okay!" Sophia said with a smile as she ran off.

"So?" Martha asked.

"So, what?" John replied.

"Do you think they like me?"

"Well, they don't hate you."

She frowned.

"I'm kidding. Give them some time to get to know you before asking me that. I do know that they don't _dislike _you. It would have been far more awkward if they did, and Sophia wouldn't have asked so many questions. She didn't even speak to the last woman I introduced them to."

"And when was this?"

"Three or four months ago. We were only together for a few months before we decided it wasn't going to work out. She was a bit too wild for me, I found out."

"Wild?" Martha asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She liked to go out and party. She had been cordial and professional with me for awhile before introducing me to her preferred lifestyle. Now, she wasn't at all like Emily, mind you. She just liked the club scene and I didn't. We clashed and it ended up falling through. I didn't mind, though. It was nice to have some quiet time again."

Martha let out a small laugh as they headed into the kitchen. "You would have hated me when I was younger than. Before I started at the Barr and settled down I was a bit of a wild child. I loved going out in university and my early years as a pupil. I spent quite a bit of those days in and out of nightclubs in Manchester."

"Are you serious?"

Martha nodded.

"I can't see you doing that."

"Being honest, I can't see myself doing it again either. But that was a little over ten years ago. You don't have to worry about that now…Unless Niamh and Felicia get their hands on me again," She said, ending just as the kids came running back out.

"What's for dinner?" Peter asked.

"Spaghetti," John replied.

"I don't see any," His son retorted.

"We're going to make it."

Peter and Sophia looked at each other and gave John a confused look.

"I thought it would be a good idea if we all made dinner together," Martha explained. "The pasta and sauce are easy, but we need some help with the details."

"I get to cook?" Sophia asked, the excitement clear in her eyes.

"You get to cook," John said to her. "Both of you get to cook, so wash your hands."

The kids did as they were told and headed to the sink while Martha finally took off her blazer and pushed up the sleeves on her white blouse, which was still partially covered by a black waistcoat. "You don't happen to have an apron lying around, do you?" She asked, knowing spaghetti sauce would ruin her clothes.

"I do, actually. Hold on," He began rummaging through drawers.

"Daddy! Help!" Sophia said, frowning as she struggled to properly reach the sink.

"I'll get the stool."

"You don't have to," Martha said. "I got it." At that she headed over and simply lifted Sophia up to the proper level.

"Thank you, Ms. Costello," She said once Martha set her down and handed her a towel.

"You're welcome."

"Found it," John said, presenting Martha with a simple, blue apron. "And yes, I do have to find the stool if she's going to help us cook." At that, he headed off, soon coming back with a small, pink and purple stepstool.

"You're small," Peter teased his sister.

"I am _not_!" Sophia retorted.

"You still need a step stool."

"Be quiet!"

"Peter, that's enough," John scolded.

"But she IS small," Peter argued.

"That doesn't mean you have to pick on her," John said as he moved some stuff over to the main counter. "You and I are going to make the meatballs."

"What do I get to do?" Sophia asked.

"You will help with the sauce and bread," He explained as Martha gathered and brought the vegetables over, along with a cutting board.

"We're throwing a few extra vegetables in," Martha explained to her. "Tomatoes, red and green peppers, onions and just a touch of garlic."

"I don't see any tomatoes," Sophia said.

"We're using crushed tomatoes. They come in a can."

Sophia didn't reply and instead picked up one of the two knives Martha had sat down.

"Sophia, _no_," John said. "Let Martha help you."

"But…"

"_Sophia_," He warned.

She frowned and set the knife down.

"It's a good thing he stopped you. That's the wrong kind of knife. You need a French knife for this," Martha said, picking up the one to her right and a green pepper with the other hand. "To keep the pepper steady you just have to rest your hand on it a bit. Then you hold it with your fingers curled so you don't cut them and if you're doing it right, you just cut in one swift motion," She explained as she demonstrated her technique. "Would you like to try?"

"Can I?" Sophia looked at John.

"Be careful," He said.

Martha moved behind her and grabbed each of her hands. "Pick up the vegetable before the knife," She ordered.

Sophia did as she was told and it took a few tries before she got it steady.

"Remember what I did with my fingers? Can you do that?"

Sophia did so and Martha smiled.

"Now be _very_ careful when you pick up the knife. Pick it up only by the handle, never the blade," She said, smiling when Sophia carefully obeyed her.

"Now set it like this," Martha moved Sophia's hand with hers. "And carefully move it down and just a _tiny_ bit across the board."

Sophia did as she was told with Martha's help and smiled when she succeeded. "I did it!" She said once she set the knife down.

"It's bit crooked, but good for a first try," Martha said. "Now can you peel this for me?" She asked, handing over an onion.

Sophia nodded and took it as Martha shook her head at John and Peter.

"You're making them too small," She said, quickly moving John aside. "Let me show you how you're supposed to make meatballs." She then picked up two of the ones John and Peter had made and combined them.

"_Hey_!" Peter said. He had been proud of what he made and didn't find it fair that she could just step in and ruin it.

"Just watch," Martha said as she carefully shaped the material in her hand and then set it down on the wax paper in front of her. "_That_ is a decent sized meatball."

"No fair! Your hands are bigger than mine!"

"It doesn't matter. It's just like making a snowball. But unlike snowballs, meatballs actually stick together," She said as she stepped away to wash her hands before chopping the rest of the vegetables with a little bit of Sophia's help.

"Now what?" She asked when Martha had opened the two cans of tomatoes they were using for the sauce.

"We do this," Martha said as she poured them into a food processor. "Now, I'm going to hold the top down and I want you to press the _second_ button, right there."

"This one?"

"Yes. But _only_ when I say so."

Sophia nodded and waited while Martha double checked the small appliance and then locked the top on.

"_Now_," She ordered.

Sophia nodded and pressed the button, letting go when she was ordered to stop.

"Thank you, Sophia. You're a good helper," Martha praised as she took the bowl from the processor and poured the tomatoes into the mixture that was to be the spaghetti sauce. She then let it heat up and helped guide the kids through cleaning their mess while John finished broiling the last of the meatballs. Once it was done he added them to the sauce, started the pasta and joined everyone else in the cleaning. However, it wasn't completely finished until Martha and Sophia finished the garlic bread sticks and put them in the oven.

"Now we wait for the timer to go off and tell us everything is ready," Martha explained to Sophia, who was curious as to what came next. "Until then, you can help set the table."

"Okay!"

Martha smiled and handed her some silverware on top of paper serviettes.

Sophia ran off to the dining table and carefully began to lay the silverware out while Peter got out plates and then helped John drain the pasta. As soon as they did that and washed the dish, Martha's timer went off and she carefully removed the pan from the oven and set it on the counter.

Knowing their routine, Peter and Sophia headed to the table while John portioned out and served the plates while Martha got the drinks and, together, they set the table. Once they were both seated John gave a signal for the kids to start eating.

Sophia tried, but ending up getting frustrated when she couldn't twirl the noodles correctly.

"Sophia, do you want me to cut it up for you?" John asked.

"_No_. I'm not a baby, I can do it."

"Try using a spoon," Martha suggested.

Sophia stopped and gave her a strange look.

"Let me show you," Martha said as she got up and retrieved a spoon from the silverware drawer. "You take a section of the pasta and use the spoon to keep it steady so it won't move around so much," She explained, using her own dish to demonstrate. "Then you take the fork like this…You see how I'm holding it?"

Sophia nodded, studying the proper way she kept it between her thumb and forefinger.

"Then you take the fork, and keeping the ends against the spoon, you just twirl. The spoon keeps it steady so you _can_ twirl it. Then you pick the fork up and use the spoon to pile the pasta hanging down on top. Understand?"

"I think so."

"You try, then." Martha handed over the spoon and watched Sophia mimic her instructions while she ate the forkful of pasta she had created. It took her a few tries, but eventually Sophia got the hang of it and smiled.

Martha smiled back and turned to Peter, "I feel as if I've been ignoring you," She said.

"I'm fine with it," Peter replied.

"Well I'm not. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"What?"

"What are your hobbies? I know you play the piano, but…"

"I like video games," Peter interrupted. "But Dad won't buy me an Xbox."

"There is nothing wrong with your Wii," John said.

"But I want to play Call of Duty. All the other boys in my class have it."

"Peter, we've had this conversation before. You're too young for those games."

"But _Dad_…They don't make anything good for Wii…Just baby games for Sophia."

"I am _not_ a baby!" Sophia snapped.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Martha reminded her. "It's not ladylike."

Sophia sat back and closed her mouth, knowing that Martha was right.

"No, you're not," John reassured her.

"She is too," Peter muttered.

"Peter, be nice. And I will hear no more of this video game issue. You are not getting your way and that's _final_."

"Fine…"

"Anyway…why don't you tell me about your piano playing?" Martha said, trying to relieve the tension in the room.

"It's okay. But I'm really no good."

"Don't say that."

"It's true…Melanie is always going to be better."

"Melanie?" Martha raised an eyebrow and gave John a curious look.

"A girl in Peter's piano class. She's…Well…She's top of the class."

"Every week."

"She's also two years older than you Peter. She's had a bit more practice."

"It's still not fair. And Mrs. Ashton still won't let me play a solo. She always chooses George."

"Shut _up_," Martha said, making both Peter and John stop and look at her in shock.

'_Who the __**hell**__ says that to a child?!' _John thought.

"You'll never get anywhere unless you stop whining and comparing yourself to other people. You're not them and never will be so _stop_ trying to be. Besides, comparisons just bring you down," Martha said, breaking a breadstick in half once she stopped.

"Martha…what…?" John said, unsure of what to think.

"Don't give me that look. You _know_ I'm right. My mother used to tell me the same thing when I was younger and it did wonders for my confidence."

'_Well, I guess I know where your bluntness comes from…' _John thought as Sophia spoke up.

"I do ballet," She said.

"I know," Martha said. "Your father says you're really good."

Sophia smiled.

"What else do you like?"

"Princesses. I want to be one, but not a spoiled princess, a kind princess like Princess Kate."

"Is that really realistic?"

"_Martha_," John warned.

"What?"

"Hall, now," He ordered, waiting while she followed him into the small hallway of the flat. "You can't tell a little girl that being a princess is unrealistic."

"Why not? I've been saying it since I was her age."

"You were also raised differently. Sophia's six. If she wants to be a princess, let her."

"Why can't she want to be a career woman instead?"

"_Martha_, she's six. She'll get over it."

"Fine," Martha sighed, not wanting to start a pointless argument.

John took that for an answer and they headed back to the table.

Martha continued making small talk with the children throughout the meal, being careful of what she said now. After dinner, Martha and John were left with the mess while Peter and Sophia ran off to their own individual activities.

"They're good kids," Martha said as she helped load the dishwasher while John first rinsed the dishes by hand.

"When they want to be. Peter refuses to let up on the Xbox matter, though."

"He's a kid. They do that. I lost track of how many times I bugged my mother for things I thought I wanted because they were popular. She always gave me the same answer."

"What?"

"That we couldn't afford it, and I took that as an answer because I knew better than to push," She explained. "Is that all?" She asked of the dishes.

John looked around. "Yes."

Martha double-checked and then closed and started the dishwasher.

"Why don't I get the kids together? We can all watch a film."

"Alright," Martha agreed.

"Peter! Sophia!" John called. "Can you come here?"

There was some bumping around before both children finally came into the lounge.

"We're going to watch a film," John told them. "Together," He added.

"I want…" Sophia started.

"_No_!" Peter said. "No princess films."

"But I…"

"No! It's not fair that you always get to pick. I want to watch…"

"_NO_!" Sophia shot back.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say!"

"Both of you _stop_," John ordered. "We'll do what we usually do and flip a coin."

"Your coins cheat!" Peter retorted. "Sophia _always _wins."

"I do _not_!"

"Fine, we'll let Martha do it then."

Martha simply took the hint when John handed her a coin and asked, "Heads or tails?"

"Tails!" Sophia said.

As soon as she spoke, Martha flipped the coin and turned it over on her arm. "Tails. You pick."

"Told you…" Peter muttered.

Sophia ignored him, headed over to the entertainment centre and pulled the drawer with the kids' movies in it open. "_Mermaid_," She said, handing it to Martha.

"Alright," Martha shrugged and moved to set up the film while Peter sunk down into the armchair with an aggravated expression and John settled on the sofa.

Sophia watched Martha and then settled on the floor once she hit 'play.'

As soon as she sat, Martha climbed up on the sofa with John and lay against him. Once she was settled, he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her hair.

Sophia glanced over at them a few minutes later and frowned. _'She's in __**my **__spot,' _She concluded as she stood up and headed over. "Why does Ms. Costello get to cuddle with you?" She asked.

"Because she's my girlfriend," John replied.

"_No_. She's in my spot."

"Sophia, I _know_ you like to sit with me, but right now it's Martha's turn. You can have yours later when I tuck you in."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Sophia nodded and went back to her spot on the floor as Martha smiled up at John, thinking that his interaction with his daughter was adorable. They spent the rest of the film in silence, except for a few instances where Sophia _tried_ to sing but was shot down by Peter. John had to get up and separate them the first time, but they stopped with verbal warnings after that.

After the film was over, Martha glanced at the clock and decided that it was getting late and she should leave.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" John asked as Martha pulled on her blazer.

"I'm sure. I have a trial on Monday I've got to prepare for."

"Alright," He said, holding out her coat for her.

"Thank you," Martha said. "It was nice to meet you, Peter and Sophia."

"Bye Ms. Costello," Sophia said, ending with a quick hug.

Martha smiled, set a hand on her head and looked towards Peter, who had nothing to say.

"I'll see you soon," She said to John.

"I hope so," He said, ending with a light kiss.

"Eww…" Peter and Sophia said together.

"Oh, hush," John said with a laugh as Martha headed out with a small laugh of her own.

'_They're good kids…' _She thought as she headed downstairs. _'And it went well…Better than I thought it would, actually. I think we're going to get along just fine…' _


	15. Untitled

_**Untitled**_

_**A/N: **_I know I said I've basically given up (in fact, I'm talking to no one right now. I know that much), but I've kept this one hidden for awhile and was drawn back out by the announcement of _Silk_ finally coming to America via PBS…On my _birthday_! All I have to say is that it's about damn time…'Cept I already own all the DVDs…I Imported. Look at me, bein' a hipster. XD Anyway, I hope this will be good for this little fandom and hopefully garner more attention. Now, I'm not sure what to call this one...Hence it being Untitled...(Anyone got a title?) It's another Martha and John interlude with a slight warning for showing that Martha actually has a sex life.

* * *

_Timeline: Late June 2012 _

Martha tapped her fingers on the table as she ran over her defense over again, double-checking her facts and making sure everything was in order for the case.

'_Alright. We have a seemingly credible alibi here, and on top of that, it's looked like a setup from the beginning…' _She thought as she absent-mindedly picked up her teacup and glanced at the clock, which read six AM. She sighed, knowing that she had to get up and get ready to be at chambers by eight to go over some things with Billy before heading to court, but as soon as she stood, her mobile went off.

'_Who the hell calls at six in the morning?' _She thought, quickly picking it up and then smiling when she read the ID. "Good morning, John," She said.

"Morning. Listen, I know it's kind of early, but, what are you doing this evening?" John asked.

"Probably preparing for the second half of the trial I'm attending today. Why?"

"Do you think you can spare a few hours for a date?"

"Why tonight? Wouldn't be smarter to go out tomorrow when neither of us has to work the next day?"

"Yes, but I only have a month until the end of the term, so I'm beyond busy. Tonight's going to be my only free night for awhile."

"Alright then, what did you have in mind?" She asked, leaning against the counter as she spoke.

"I was thinking that we could go out after I left school, since I know your trial ends far before four fifteen."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Something casual."

"I know of a decent café near your school. I've been there twice for breakfast and don't have any complaints. It's a casual little place, so we could get in right after work with no issues."

"I like that idea. If you give me the name I can meet you there around five."

"I've got a better idea. Since I know where it is, I'll pick you up after you get done. Four fifteen you said?"

"Martha, that's really not necessary."

"Nonsense. I _want _to. Besides, you have yet to let me drive on a date."

"Well…I…"

"No. I'll be there at four fifteen so be ready. No more arguments."

"Alright. See you then. Bye," John said, knowing that it was no use to argue with her. It was hard to change her mind once it was made up and he didn't feel like it was necessary to argue over something as trivial as this.

"Bye," Martha said before hanging up. She then glanced at the clock again, and, after seeing the time, quickly headed for the shower. Originally, she had planned to take a small, quick shower simply to clean up before her trial, but as soon as she remembered she was going out later, a whole lists of tasks were attached to her shower.

'_I might as well wash my hair. I was going to tonight, but if I'm going out…' _She thought as she pulled the clip out of her hair and then started the water. _'I should probably shave too…And where did I put that body mist?' _She sighed as she pulled off the last of her pyjamas, thinking that while she liked being with someone, looking nice for them was too much work. Granted, she was used to taking a few extra measures here and there to look nice for court, but being in a relationship required extra work and though she sometimes thought it was ridiculous, she loved the end result and the appreciative, loving looks she got from John because of it.

Immediately after her shower, she found and set aside a blow drier and then went to work searching for the new body mist that Niamh had given her as a gift due to a buy one get one free beauty sale at a small shop she frequented. She ended up finding it mixed in with some clothes and set it aside to do her hair and, by the time she finished, it was eight and her mobile was ringing.

"Are you alright?" Billy asked over the line. "You're never late."

"I'm fine. I just overslept," Martha lied. She had yet to tell anyone in chambers-minus Niamh and Nick-that she had a boyfriend and preferred it that way. Many of them were too curious for their own good, especially Billy. "I'll be there soon."

"Alright," He said right before Martha hung up. She then quickly gathered her belongings and hurried out the door, anticipating the trial ahead. It was a major drug case involving not only a group of students from a local public school, but two young teachers as well. She was co-defending one of the teachers with another, higher up QC defending the other. Knowing she had a lot to do, she got her meeting with Billy over with as fast as she could and headed off to court for her con.

"Is she sticking with the story?" Martha asked the solicitor Tammi Maverick, as they walked the halls of the courthouse.

"Yes. It's never once changed. She was with her boyfriend all night and never once left his home."

"It looks like a setup if you ask me. From what I heard, she wasn't well liked among the students, and because she's young and naïve she went along with their plans to gain some credibility."

"You'll have to ask her that," Tammi said.

"I will, along with several other things. We must have everything perfectly clear and in black and white. C.W.'s prosecuting, so if we don't spell it out and confirm the facts, she'll rip our defense to shreds," Martha explained as they finally reached the room where the meeting was to take place.

"Celia Bellmonte?" Tammi asked and the woman in the room, who had been looking at her hands, looked up. "There are some things we need to go over before the trial starts," She said as Martha set her stuff down and pulled out part of the brief and a notebook.

"I just need you to confirm that you weren't there and never have been," Martha told her.

"I wasn't and haven't. I told you, they set me up because they don't like me," Celia explained.

"Do you have any proof of this? Because it's rather easy for people to say things against it without proof and since they're minors, the jury is more inclined to believe them. They could easily say you're just saying those things because they're kids and _you_ don't like them."

"I think the way they act in class is enough proof, but if you really want something to go on, they have a blog page."

"What kind of blog page?"

"One dedicated to bashing the teachers in school. Every one of us has our own section and the things they write are just, for lack of a better word, mean."

"And, why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I only found out last night. A friend sent me the link via email. I have a printout here," Celia quickly rifled through her purse and pulled out a few papers.

Martha flipped through them and looked at Tammi. "Can you get this copied and put into the official defense statement?" She asked.

Tammi nodded and left to find someone to do so.

"And to make yourself look better to them, you got involved in their marijuana ring?"

Celia nodded. "I found out by accident, and wanted to tell someone, get them busted. But, they offered me things if I cooperated and I started to help them and my…what do you call him?"

"Codefendant."

"Right, my codefendant. We never meant any harm, and I know I'm going to get fired, but, I can deal as long as I don't end up in jail."

Martha nodded as she took notes and then asked, "Can you tell me about that night?"

"No, because I wasn't there. The students are only saying that to get me in trouble. I was with my boyfriend all night, and he can vouch for that."

"What were you doing with him?"

"We went out for dinner and then to his house to watch a film."

"And, you stayed over?"

"Yes. We…um…We went to bed at ten."

"And he can vouch, you said?"

"Yes. He's here today, ready to be called as a witness."

"Alright. Now I need you to sign the front of my brief. This just makes it clear that I haven't put any pressure on you to go one way or the other," Martha said, handing her the binder and a pen.

Celia signed and then looked up at Martha. "Are you sure you can get me out of this?"

"I'll try, but I make no promises. It's never a good idea to over or underestimate your defense," Martha explained as she stood and then headed out, as the trial began in five minutes. When she arrived in the courtroom, the other defendant's barrister, along with the prosecution, was already there. The teenagers had already been tried and given community punishments. There were a few present at the trial, waiting to be called as witnesses by request.

"Pleading?" Caroline Warwick asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Martha replied. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, between you and me, there doesn't seem to be much hope for your client. The young, student teacher who gets involved with drugs just to make her students like her does not sound respectable," Caroline said.

"There's more to it than you say."

"Not from my perspective."

They both stopped speaking as the judge entered and everyone immediately rose, sitting again when the judge did as the trial finally began. The first witness they called was the headmaster who had busted the students in the first place.

"When you caught them that night, was Mr. Fitzpatrick among them?" Caroline questioned.

"Yes," The headmaster said. "It was him and the three students."

"They were gathered in the courtyard, correct?"

"Yes."

"What about Miss Bellmonte? Was she among them?"

"Yes. I saw her from the back, and I heard her voice. She was handing off the marijuana to the students and trying to make a quick escape."

"Yet, she wasn't caught at the scene."

"She ran away, down an alley. She was reported and arrested the following morning at the school. Kind of a cop out if you ask me. She ran while Fitzpatrick stayed, offering to take the drugs and let the students run."

"And when she was arrested, did she go without argument?"

"Yes. I guess she figured she had no choice. It wasn't worth it to make a fool out of herself."

"What about the students? What did they say?"

"They pinned it on her, and considering her actions, I don't blame them. And, aside from that, both her and Mr. Fitzpatrick are adults and should know far better than that."

"No further questions Your Honour," Caroline said as she sat down.

As soon as she sat, Martha immediately stood up. "Mr. Eccles, I'm Martha Costello. I represent Celia Bellmonte. Now, you said you saw her from the back, right?"

"Yes," Eccles replied.

"But it was dark, so, how can you be sure it was actually her?"

"The voice. She has a distinctive one, and a laugh to match. I heard both."

"Yes, but a voice means nothing. You didn't see a face."

"I _know_ it was her."

"Okay, sure. But, can you have someone else attest to that?"

"All of the students and Mr. Fitzpatrick claim it to be true. I have a hard time believing they would lie about such a matter, especially under pressure."

"Well, I believe it's perfectly plausible, especially with what was going on behind the scenes."

"What?"

"Did you not know of the blog page? The one used strictly for bashing all of the teachers at your school?"

"_What_?"

Martha flipped through the pages of her defense and pulled out her copy of the print out. She handed it over to the clerk, who handed it to Eccles.

As soon as it was handed over, Caroline and the judges flipped through their own papers and found their copies.

'_Wait a moment…' _Caroline thought before standing up. "Relevance, Your Honour?" She said.

"Miss Costello?" The judge asked.

"It's part of the defense, which is believed to be a setup. These students fitted my client up because they did not like her, which seems petty, but is true, as evident from her statement, the statements of the students and that page."

"But the students have no authority, and even if it is a setup, it's not worth much," Eccles contradicted. "It's known that she was helping them out before."

"Which she has already attested to, but that's a different charge and will be handled later," Martha explained. "We're here because of possession and supply due to the night in question. However, there can't be either intent when she wasn't even there." Inwardly, she sighed, knowing she was starting to sound redundant and that they were back to square one.

"Then explain what I saw."

"I have already informed you that it was a ruse set by the students, which is evident from that log. The sole reason I presented it was so that you could understand where we are coming from in terms of defense."

"Not once does the log mention the drugs," Caroline pointed out.

"That's because it's implied. You can see where they say they will 'get her good' and that 'jail is the only place for her.'"

"I still fail to see the relevance in this."

"Then perhaps my client could explain it better. I'd like to call Celia Bellmote as the next witness."

"That will be our next step, then," The judge said, making a note as Martha sat and let Mr. Fitzpatrick's barrister have his turn at cross-examining the witness.

She took notes as they spoke, knowing that it could be useful for her defense later. By the time the adjourned for the day, she still wasn't sure what to think, as wasn't looking good for either of the defendants.

"I really hate to say 'I told you so'," Caroline said as they were leaving the courtroom.

"What are you talking about? We haven't gotten _anywhere_ yet," Martha said as she turned and left. She then headed to the room the meeting room from before to see Celia for the usual, post-trial briefing. It was to assure she knew what was going on and how they were going to approach the rest of it.

"They don't believe the defense," Celia whined as soon as Martha stepped in.

"They don't believe the defense _yet_," She insisted. "We still have two more days to go, which is plenty of time to prove your innocence. Give me some time to look over my notes and the log. Once I do that, we'll go from there."

"Alright."

Martha simply nodded and then left, intending to go back to chambers, but was stopped outside by Caroline.

"Where are you off to?" She asked.

"Why?" Martha asked suspiciously.

"I thought we could go to lunch or something."

"I can't. I have work to do, and then I have a date."

"A date? Really? With who?"

"My boyfriend," Martha said before walking off, leaving a shocked Caroline behind. She smiled to herself as she got in her car, though part of her wondered why everyone she told was so shocked that she had a boyfriend. _'Does everyone think I'm incapable of having a relationship?' _She thought as she headed off. Once she arrived back at Chambers, she headed towards her room, but was stopped by Billy. "What?" She asked.

"You can't go in there, Mr. Reader has a con," Billy informed her.

Martha sighed. "What about Nick and Niamh's room?"

"Only Mr. Slade is here, Miss Cranitch is in court, but he just got a new brief. No con yet."

"I'll work in there, then," She said as she walked off, pausing to knock on the door of the room.

"It's open," Nick said from inside. "Martha?" He asked once she entered.

"Do you mind if I work in here? Clive has a con in our room."

"Nope," Nick shook his head. "You can use Niamh's desk."

"Thank you," Martha said as she sat to go over her notes from the trial, being careful not to move too much on the desk and glancing over the two pictures Niamh kept. One was a family picture and the other was a fun photo of just her and Felicia in evening gowns. "Niamh doesn't keep any pictures of you?" She asked Nick.

"Huh? No," He replied. "We're not one of _those _couples that have to have the other's picture around. The only picture of me she has is in her purse and vice-a-versa."

She nodded and continued looking through her trial notes, thinking, _'There has to be a hole in their defense somewhere, and I can tell one of the students is near cracking. He's changed the story twice since the initial questioning. Then there's this log…Hmm…'_ She quickly read through it, noting the names and the posts, and then going back when one caught her eye. She then smiled to herself and marked the page before moving onto another part of the brief. _'We've gone over her alibi, but haven't even gotten into the students' motives…They're obvious to me, but we'll need to spell it out…' _She thought, highlighting several parts of the defense and rewriting others as she kept a close eye on the time, finally deciding to stop and gather her things at three forty-five.

"Thanks for letting me work here," She said to Nick as she left and then ducked into the bathroom to touch up her makeup. After a quick look in the mirror, she added an extra bit of mascara, reapplied her lipstick added just a bit of coral-coloured blush and finally sprayed just a bit of the body mist of her neck and wrists. She then took in a breath and left, nearly slamming into Niamh on the way.

"My God, I'm sorry," She said.

"It's fine," Niamh replied. "You out of here?"

Martha nodded. "John and I have a date."

Niamh smiled. "Have fun."

"I will." Martha tried to leave, but Niamh grabbed her wrist.

"Wait…what underwear are you wearing?"

"_What_?"

"I just want to know if you have sexy underwear on."

"Why?"

"Because my intuition tells me that you do. Look at you. You've done your makeup nicely, you're wearing your best blouse, have curled the ends of your hair, and…" Niamh stepped closer. "You smell like sexy body mist."

Martha backed up with a raised eyebrow and said, "That's a bit creepy."

"This would be easier if you would simply tell me," Niamh teased, knowing that was usually Martha's line.

Martha sighed, knowing that she'd never get away unless she confessed. "It's the dark blue with the black lace overlay."

"Wow…" Niamh muttered.

"But it doesn't mean I'm planning anything. You don't jump into bed with Nick every time you're wearing something sexy, do you?"

"No."

"Exactly. I wore it because I like it and it makes me feel sexy."

"And if you feel sexy, you feel confident," Niamh finished. "So, you are learning something."

Martha rolled her eyes. "Are you done? I told John I'd pick him up."

"Yes. For now," Niamh replied as she walked off.

Martha let out a small sigh and moved on, only to be stopped again by Billy.

"In court tomorrow?" He asked.

"Why?" Martha asked back, knowing something was up.

"Can you cover a bail application for Mr. Reader?"

"Why can't he do his own?"

"It overlaps his trial tomorrow morning."

"Get Nick or Niamh to do it then. I have a trial at the same time."

"They're both in court tomorrow."

"What about a pupil?"

"We're interviewing next week."

Martha sighed. "I still can't do it," She said. "I'm sorry." At that, she simply left, brushing past him and out to her car.

'_I'm going to be late,' _She thought, looking at her watch. She then quickly texted John to tell him so and drove off.

Meanwhile, John sat at his desk going over a few last minute things, picking up his mobile when it went off and smiling at the message. He then turned back to his papers and separated them, putting what he would work on at home in one pile, those that were done in another, and those that could wait in a third. After another brief look, he collected what he needed, double-checked it and headed out. Once outside, he found several of his colleagues gathered by the front door. Some waiting for their own rides for various reasons, and others just hanging around.

"John, I thought you'd be gone by now," Frederick, teacher of the history class under his, said.

"I'm always here until four-fifteen," John said, leaning against a wall.

"But you've never waited around with us. You have your own car," David, one of the math instructors, pointed out.

"My girlfriend is picking me up so we can go out," He said casually, immediately getting everyone's attention.

"Girlfriend?" David asked.

"I didn't know you had one," Andrew, a student teacher in the English department, said.

"I don't see what the big deal is," John said, looking at the expressions on their faces.

"What's her name?" Fredrick asked.

"What's she like?" Liam, another student teacher, chimed in.

"What does she look like?" Andrew asked.

John sighed. _'Sometimes these men are too nosy for their own good. I thought women were nosy, but these guys…ugh…' _"Her name is Martha," He said.

"_Martha_?" David said in an unsure tone.

"Yes. What's wrong with that?"

All of them were silent for a moment before Fredrick finally spoke up. "Nothing it's just that…Martha is…Well…It's such a _boring_ name."

"So because of her name, she's boring?"

"People become their names, you know," Liam said.

"Besides, when I hear that, I think of my grandmother," David said. "It's an old lady name."

"That doesn't mean anything," John said. "There are plenty of people out there who break their name stereotypes."

"What's she like, then?" Liam asked, repeating his question.

"She's intelligent, insightful, has a great sense of humour and is far from boring. She's got quite a bit of northern sass in her."

Andrew raised an eyebrow, prepared to speak again, but was cut off by and turned at the sound of a car pulling up.

"Ready to go?" Martha asked, lifting her sunglasses to look at John.

All of the men glanced first at the shiny, snazzy convertible and then at Martha, who was _far_ from what they had imagined when John told them her name. In their minds, they had seen an older, frumpy looking woman in a sweater and skirt with dark eyes and her hair tied up, but what they saw was a beautiful, slightly older woman with well-curled hair and rather pretty blue eyes in a well-fitting, tailored, black suit and dark-blue blouse, which coincidentally matched with John's own, dark-blue shirt.

Ignoring them, John simply walked past them, giving a quick wave behind his back. He smiled at Martha as he threw his stuff behind the passenger seat and quickly climbed in. They then shared a quick, light kiss before Martha put her sunglasses back on and drove off, leaving his shocked colleagues behind.

"Where do I get one of those?" David asked.

"The woman or the car?" Liam replied.

"Both."

"They thought I was boring?" Martha said as she turned onto the main road.

"Only because of your name. David said it was an old lady's name."

"Blame my mum. She named me. Besides, I like it."

"It's okay. They were just being stupid. I know you're not boring."

"Thanks," She said with a grateful smile.

He smiled back and they drove on in silence, the radio providing background noise until they arrived at the restaurant Martha had specified.

"Did you choose that outfit on purpose?" She asked him.

"What?" John asked.

"You're wearing my colour," Martha pointed out as she hit the lock button on her fob.

"Being honest? No. I hadn't thought about it. Now, tell me about this car of yours."

"It's a blue Alfa Romeo Spider with black interior and a matching, black top," She said, gesturing towards it with her hand.

"I _know_ that much. Where'd you get it?"

"Private seller. It took me months to pay off when I first got it, but it was worth it. My mum says it was my midlife crisis," She said with a laugh.

"You're thirty-seven, Martha. That's hardly midlife."

"That's why it's funny," She pointed out as he kindly held the door open for her.

Since it was far before the dinner rush, they were seated quickly and were able to get a small, private booth in a corner.

"So…"Martha started as soon as they had ordered their drinks. "What else did your colleagues have to say about me?"

"Just what I told you. I wasn't with them long enough to hear anything else. But from the way they questioned me, I think they were expecting a frumpy old lady."

"You don't think about me like that, do you?" She asked in a soft, cute voice.

"Okay, now you're just fishing," John teased as he picked up a breadstick and broke it in half, offering her the other half.

Martha gave a small laugh, took her half of the breadstick, and turned back to the menu. After a quick glance over it, she made an easy decision and set it down.

"How are the kids doing?" She asked once he set his menu down.

"Alright, I guess."

"You guess?" Martha asked in a worried tone as the waiter appeared with their drinks.

"Thank you," John said with a nod.

"Are you ready to order, or do you need more time?" The waiter asked.

John glanced at Martha, and reading her look, said, "We're ready." He let her speak first and then gave his order. The waiter simply nodded and headed off, leaving them alone again.

"I don't like what I'm seeing," He continued. "They seemed fine with the arrangement at first, but they've just been down lately. Sophia hasn't been talking much, which is far from normal for her."

"Why don't you ask Emily about it?"

John shook his head. "I try, but she never tells me anything. I've been mulling over filing for full custody for awhile now. It's what I've wanted since the divorce, but her barrister tore that to shreds."

"Personally, I think it would be best. But, you think about it some more, and if you need legal advice, you know I'm here for you," She said, gently placing her hand on top of his.

"I know," John said with a smile. "What about you? How have things been going, Martha?"

"I started a new trial today, but I know you don't want to hear about that."

"I do, actually."

"I can't tell you much, just that it's a school drug case."

"Teachers or students?"

"Both, but the students have already been tried and sentenced. My client has been set up. It's rare that I get innocent clients, but when I do, I try my best to make sure they don't get screwed over."

"And what about the guilty?"

"I do the same thing. Innocent until proven guilty, remember? Four words to live by."

'_You're something else,' _He thought with a smile. "Who's the client?"

"One of the teachers, which is more than you should know about this. No more questions."

"Alright then. How about I tell you about the tests I've been grading?"

Martha laughed. "No thank you. Unless you've got a funny story to go with it."

"Not today. It was normal today, but I was told that I might get a student teacher."

"So, you'll get a pupil?"

"Basically, but it's not confirmed. The school is simply looking at applicants for the new fall term. The headmaster said that we have quite a few for the history department."

As soon as he finished speaking, the waiter appeared with their order, and placed a rather large plate of Florentine ravioli in front of Martha and a smaller, chicken parmesan plate in front of John.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" He asked her.

"Is that a challenge?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, but…"

"I haven't eaten all day because we were coming here and I know how big the servings are," Martha explained. "Are you trying to tell me I'm fat?"

"No. Of course not. You look fine," John replied as Martha picked up her water glass.

"Don't nitpick with me John. You'll never win. Nitpicking is what I do for a living."

"Well…That's one word for it."

"Just eat," Martha said with a small smile as she finally picked up her fork and did so.

There were brief pauses in the meal while they talked, but for the most part, it was silent until the end, when Martha asked, "Dessert?"

"You just polished off an entire plate of ravioli and still want desert?"

"We can share," She offered.

"I'm not really in the mood for anything sweet, but you can get whatever you want."

Martha let out a small sigh and motioned the waiter over. He took their plates and made note of her dessert order before heading off into the kitchen, soon coming back with a small bowl of vanilla ice cream and cherry-berry sauce.

"I had to," She confessed as she picked up her spoon.

"I see. Whose turn is it to pay?"

"We'll split it and each pay for our own meals."

"Alright," John shrugged and motioned the waiter back over to ask for the bill so that they'd have it on hand while Martha finished eating.

'_I'm still not used to this…' _He thought awhile later when she finally finished with the ice cream and they both stood to leave. He waited while she pulled her blazer back on, as she had taken it off upon sitting and grabbed her handbag. They paid up front and were glad to be out right before the dinner rush.

"It's already five fifty," He said. "How did we spend more than hour in a restaurant?"

"We took our time and had a rather nice conversation," Martha replied as she unlocked the car.

"I'm not ready to go home yet," John admitted.

"Neither am I. I'm kind of in the mood for a walk, actually."

"Well, it is a nice evening. It's not raining for once."

Martha laughed. "There's a nice little park up the street if you really want to take a walk."

"Sure, why not?"

She smiled and turned her attention to the road as she drove off. Since the park was just up the road, it took only a few minutes to find it. As they stepped out, Martha took note of and appreciated the nice weather and John smiled at the children running around.

"Are you sure you want to take a walk in those?" He said, eyeing Martha's court shoes and stockings.

"I don't mind as long as we stay on the sidewalk. Besides, I'm used to walking in heels."

John simply shrugged, his way of saying "okay" and reached for her hand.

Martha pulled away and moved to link her arm with his instead. "I like this better," She said.

"Being honest, so do I," He replied as they headed off.

"I want to hear more about these issues you're having with the kids."

"I told you, they're just…not every well off lately. Every time I see them, they look down and they don't look like they've been eating much. My mum has told me that there's been skipped dental and doctor's appointments and the other day I got a call from the school about a missed conference that I knew nothing about. Emily doesn't say anything about these things. She doesn't want much to do with me, and I know that if it was up to her, I'd never be allowed to see them."

"This is rude, but, I hate her."

"How is it rude?" John asked, curious since he took no offense to it.

"I shouldn't say it because I don't know her."

"It's alright. As long as you're not going off on a pointless rant, I'm fine with it."

"I don't want to talk about her or this anymore," Martha decided. "What have Peter and Sophia been up to?"

"Sophia has a ballet recital in two weeks where she's playing one of the main characters."

"You must be proud of her."

"I am. She may seem a little off, but she's really into it. She's been doing it for three years, and it's helped. She had horrible coordination when she was really little."

"And Peter?"

"There's a school concert on Saturday I have to attend, which is part of the reason I asked you out on a Thursday evening. That, combined with the rest of my schedule, has made for a hectic-looking weekend."

Martha nodded. "You're not the only one. My trial runs into Monday, so I'll be working on that most of the weekend. And, on Sunday Niamh has invited me to some party at Felicia's. Apparently she's trying to get extra money by being a perfume consultant for a mail-order beauty shop."

"Felicia is Niamh's photographer friend, right?"

"Yes."

"Just making sure I remember correctly."

Martha smiled and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked on, chatting about whatever came to mind, and simply enjoying each other's company until it started to get dark.

"My God, how long have we been out here?" Martha asked, quickly glancing at her watch.

"A couple of hours at least. Time always goes by rather quickly when I'm with you," John said, ending with a light kiss on her head.

She blushed, unsure of what to think, as it had been awhile since anyone spoke to her like that and meant it. Then, finally, she said, "Why don't we head off then?"

"We have to, it's getting dark," John teased.

"John, we're grownups, I think we can handle ourselves," She teased back as they walked off back to her car.

"Better safe than sorry."

"You…You're something else, do you know that?" She said with a laugh.

"I've been told that before. Usually by my sister."

With another small laugh, Martha drove off. At first, she had intended to drop John off at his flat, but her mind had other ideas. Though she refused to admit it aloud, she knew that she was starting to fall for John. She had been thinking about it for awhile, wondering when or if they'd ever take the next step. And, though her common sense told her to wait, she knew she'd rather not and let _that_ sense lead her back to _her_ flat.

"What are we doing back here?" John asked.

'_Good question…' _Martha thought when her normal sense came back to her. "Being honest…I'm not sure. But as long as you're here, why don't you come in for a drink or two? It's still early," She said as she stepped out of the car, not at all surprised when he followed.

"That may be true, but I have work to do. It is a school night, Martha. And I don't want to trouble you since you're already home, so I can take a cab or the underground."

"Then why are you following me?"

"Because I'm walking you to the door," He said as he grabbed her hand and did just that. "I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Are you sure you don't want to come in for a moment?" She asked as she unlocked the door.

"Martha, I told you…"

She didn't pay attention. She simply sighed with frustration, thinking, _'He just not getting it, is he?' _Then, she grabbed the end of his tie and pulled him closer. "Since you're obviously not getting it, let me make myself clear. You're coming with me, John. I want you in my bed."

"Now?"

"Yes, _now_," Martha snapped as she pulled him down to her level and pressed her lips against his in a hard, heavy kiss.

At first, John tried to pull back and shove her away, both shocked and unsure about this, but he quickly gave in, knowing that he wanted it. He took control, pushing her up against the door while responding with an equally deep kiss and gently biting at her lower lip until she relented.

Though it was hard for her to think straight, Martha managed to gather enough sense to feel behind her back for the door handle. Without a second thought she pushed it down and broke the kiss.

"Inside," She urged, again grabbing him by his tie as she dragged him in behind her. She paused to close and lock the door, then stepped towards him, set her hands on his chest and leaned up slightly for another kiss. This time, she started off softly, but quickly gave that up when he returned the kiss with a hard, deep one and pushed her up against the closest wall.

It had been a great while since John had had sex with anyone and had tried to put it off with her, wanting them to ease into the relationship. He had never expected this, but had to admit that he _loved _it and thought it was hot when she took charge of him and demanded he come with her. _'She obviously wants this as much as I do…As much as I __**have **__for awhile now,' _He thought as she relented to his silent requests and their tongues met yet again.

Martha moaned against his lips. The last person she had been with was three months ago after the ball, and though they had done something similar, it hadn't felt like _this_. She couldn't remember the last time she had true, passion-fueled sex, as many of her recent encounters had been one-night stands. She gasped as he broke the kiss and moved down to her neck, gently scraping the skin with his teeth. She then closed her eyes for a moment and let instinct take over as she took her hands to his tie and pulled again, this time with the intention to pull it off.

As soon as he felt her hands on him, John took to kissing her lips again, hoping to distract her as he took his own hands to her blouse, fumbling with the buttons due to his trembling hands as he felt the tie finally slip to the ground.

'_She's quick…' _He thought upon realizing that three of his buttons were undone already. As soon as he finished the thought, Martha grabbed the back of his head, her hand tangling in his hair as she once again closed the small distance between them with a deep kiss that he quickly took control of.

She moaned against his lips again, this time louder as she hooked a leg around his waist-mainly for support, as, she already felt as if she'd collapse despite them not doing much. She simply assumed it was a mix of the sensations and the fact that she hadn't been with anyone in a long while-not like this anyway.

John smiled against her skin as he moved back down her neck, still fumbling with the remaining buttons on her blouse, and resisting every urge to simply rip it off of her, knowing it was her favourite.

Martha, however, was less gentle and when he paused to kiss her again, she used it to her advantage and simply ripped the remaining four buttons on his shirt open, ignoring his gasp and aggravated sigh. She simply smiled against his lips and threw her arms around his neck, gasping when she felt his hands on her stomach and his kisses on her breasts, meaning that he'd finally gotten her blouse open. She then blushed as she realized that he was going to be seeing her naked. She'd never been completely confident in her body, and had even had a few men in her past call her fat, one of which made her cry when she was twenty-four and thought she was in love.

Sensing that something was wrong, John stopped and came back up to look in her eyes a moment, gently placing a hand on her cheek. "You okay?" He asked.

She nodded, not wanting to ruin this or make him stop. Though she still felt a bit self-conscious, she refused to let it get in the way of taking the next step in the first real relationship she'd had in awhile.

John spent another moment looking into her eyes, just to make sure she was truly fine and quickly resumed kissing her as he took his hands back to her clothes, eagerly pulling off both her blouse and blazer at once as she easily slipped his shirt off. Then, she stopped for a moment and shrugged out of her clothes herself and pulled him as close as she could as he moved her further up against the wall, using his hands to tease and explore her body. He ran his fingers over every curve, drawing small patters with them as he moved down.

Her breath hitched once she felt his hand gently trailing up her thigh, his finger gently running in another pattern. She couldn't help the rather loud moan that formed on her lips when she felt him skimming over the black lace that made up part of her panties, and then, finally, into her, just a bit surprised to find her already perfectly wet for him.

"John…" She gasped. "Bed…_Now_…" As much as she would have loved to stay and let him take her there, she knew they'd have plenty of time for that and she wanted this to be a bit…special.

With another kiss, he boosted her up even more, allowing her to wrap her other leg around him as he carried her off into the bedroom. This time, he didn't fumble around, and was able to quickly deduce which of the rooms was her bedroom, not even pausing when both of her shoes hit the ground. Once in the bedroom, John carefully lowered her to the bed and then stopped to pull of his own socks and shoes before climbing on top of her and capturing her with another series of kisses as he again moved down her neck. This time, however, her clothes weren't in the way, allowing him to go as far as he wanted. He made a soft trail of kisses from her neck to her breasts, occasionally scraping his teeth along the skin and smiling at the small, sensual gasps he got in response. He then took a minute to stop and look her over, thinking, _'So this is what she's been hiding under all those layers of clothing…She's…Well…She's __**beautiful**__.' _His hands acted almost on their own, finding and skimming over the black lace that covered the blue satin of her bra.

"This has to go…" He whispered huskily. Though sexy, it was in his way and he wanted to see her. _All_ of her.

With a slight blush, Martha grabbed his hair and pulled him back for another kiss as he slipped a hand under her back, easily finding and unhooking her bra. She could only be grateful that it was dark because it hid her obvious blush as he moved back down to her breasts.

John started with the right one, his kisses soft and lingering, as he wanted to properly savour her. He relished in every small gasp and moan that escaped her parted lips, knowing he was the cause.

Martha's senses were reeling. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had made her feel like this. It was a heady, steady mixture of passion, pleasure and just a bit of torture, as he was a bit slow for her taste. But the different taste and the fact that they were still both only half dressed heightened the excitement as she threw her head back and moaned as he finally took her nipple into his mouth to suck on it, occasionally stopping to tease it with his tongue, caressing and fondling her other breast with his hand. She took her hands to his hair, using them to tease it as he moved to her other breast, leaving a series of love bites in his path and smiling against her skin at the small moans he received in response.

He gave the second the same treatment as the first, again using his free hand to tease the untouched one. As he did so, he couldn't help the comparison that formed in his mind, though he wouldn't dare say it aloud. He noted that while Emily's breasts had been smaller, and could easily fit in his hands, Martha's were firmer and spilled out of his hands, not that it mattered of course, he thought she was beautiful regardless.

As soon as he removed himself from her chest and started to move down, Martha grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him back up for a long, deep kiss that _she_ took control of. She smiled at the groan she received from him in response and took her hands to his chest. She ran them over every inch, exploring and taking him in, occasionally scraping him with her nails as she moved down to his trousers and eagerly pulled at his belt.

Realizing this, he helped her strip him, soon thinking that it wasn't right that he was naked and she wasn't. After another kiss, he moved down her body, placing light kisses on every piece of skin he came across while he fumbled with her skirt, taking a moment to find the zipper in the back. Once he did, he practically ripped it off of her, leaving her in only her stockings and panties. He then slipped his tongue into her navel, smiling as she moaned and shivered in delight and then moved even farther down. He gripped one of her legs as he kissed his way down her thigh, scraping his teeth against her skin along the way until he reached the hem of her stocking, which he took between his teeth, easily and quickly pulling it off that way. Once he threw it aside, he did the same to the other, struggling to keep control amidst her small, sexy moans and sensual gasps.

It seemed liked forever to Martha as he did this, taking his time in carefully peeling each of the stockings off of her. She knew he was doing it on purpose, yet, she loved it. He was careful and attentive, making sure that while he had fun with the teasing, that she enjoyed it. She hated making comparisons, but it was nothing like her recent encounters which were all fueled by pure lust-this was passion,_ real_ passion.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, John came back up to kiss her and then immediately moved back down and, as he did with the stockings, began to carefully pull her panties off with his teeth. Once they were thrown aside, he grabbed one of her legs and kissed his way back up. Starting with her ankle, he made a trail of hot kisses up her leg, to her inner thigh until he finally found her.

'_Oh, __**God. **__He's not going to…' _Martha thought, only to have the thought cut off when she felt his tongue slide over her. As soon as she felt it, she forgot everything she was thinking, threw her head back and let out a slightly high-pitched cry of pleasure. She then took to biting her knuckles to hold back anything more, knowing how she was and how unappreciative her neighbours would be if she got any louder.

Like he had the whole time, John took his time, using the moments to savour her. His strokes were long, languid and rather slow, and, after a few moments he decided to add to it by slipping two fingers inside of her.

That was all it took for her to snap. Martha threw her head back again, crying out without a care when the orgasm hit her hard and fast.

"Oh, no you don't," John whispered as he came back up, and, before she had a chance to completely come down from her high, he grabbed her and took her, easily slipping up and into her.

Martha cried out again as she threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around him with the intent to pull him closer.

He drove her in slow but powerful thrusts, not wanting to push too far too fast, kissing her every time he came back up.

She knew what he was doing, but it didn't do much for her. Finally, in between kisses, she gasped, "Harder…Faster."

Without a second thought, he more than willingly obliged, groaning when he felt Martha's hands on his back. She carefully ran them over him, scraping him with her nails as she did so, trying not to dig too deeply, but failing at some points. Eventually, she gave up with that and gripped his arms as he came back to kiss her yet again and she arched even further into him, knowing she was on the brink. Luckily, she managed to hold out a bit longer and they soon reached a hot, heady climax together, both of them unashamedly crying out their pleasure.

Grabbing the back of his head, Martha pulled him in for one last kiss before he collapsed next to her. They lay in silence for a moment, trying desperately to steady their breathing.

Finally, after the long silence, John spoke, saying, "Can I be honest?"

"Of course," She replied, her head still spinning.

He moved, propping himself up on one arm while resting the other hand on one of Martha's breasts. "Yours are bigger than Emily's."

Martha giggled. "I don't know if I should be flattered or offended."

"Why would you be offended?"

"Because," She said, pushing him onto his back so that she could rest her hand on him. "You're talking about your ex in _my_ bed."

"Be flattered, it was meant as a compliment."

"Fine. I'll let it go this time, but don't you _ever _compare me to her again. Even if it's supposed to be flattering."

"Alright, I'm sorry."

Martha smiled and leaned down to kiss him.

John smiled against her lips, and gripped her shoulders, pulling her in closer as he deepened the kiss.

As soon as the kiss broke, Martha moved him completely onto his back and climbed on top of him. "Now it's _my_ turn," She said.

"And just what do you plan to do with _your_ turn, Ms. Costello?" He teased.

"You'll see," She said, then she gave him a hard, deep kiss and the moved down to his neck to start a hot trail of kisses down _his_ body…

Afterwards, she was the first to fall asleep, leaving John alone with his thoughts for awhile. As he lay, letting the day's events replay in his mind, he discovered, much to his surprise, that Martha was a cuddler, the sort of woman who burrowed in and wrapped around. So, he drifted in and out of thoughts with her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder and her hand resting on his chest while her body curled around him, wrapped up in the majority of the blanket.

'_She's a blanket hog,' _He observed as he pulled at the blanket to get _some_ of it, eventually giving up and using the extra blanket at the foot of the bed as he finally drifted to sleep.

The following morning, he was up at five due to his internal clock and had to stop for a moment before he remembered where he was. He glanced next to him to find that Martha had moved over in the night, and slept curled up with her back to him. The sight made him smile as he moved a strand of hair out of her face. He then looked at the clock on the wall and inwardly gasped.

'_It's already five! I have to be at school at seven and I __**still**__ have tests to grade!' _John thought as he quickly got up and began to grab his clothes, pulling them on as he found them until he remembered that his shirt was somewhere on the lounge floor. But, as he made his way out the door, he stopped and looked back. He didn't want to disturb her by waking her to tell her of his leaving, but didn't think it was right to not say anything either, as that would make it look like he was a fuck-and-run kind of guy. Then, he got an idea and once he was in the lounge he grabbed a piece of paper, and a pen and wrote a small note explaining why he'd left and then went back in the bedroom and laid it on the pillow next to her so she'd find it right away.

"I'll see you later," He whispered, giving her a light kiss on the head that she barely responded to. _'So, she's a deep sleeper…' _He thought as he left, hoping he could catch the next train and get home to get ready for school and do his forgotten work.

An hour later, Martha got up due to her own internal clock and, remembering what had happened, felt the other side of the bed. Upon finding it empty, she quickly sat up and looked around the room, hoping to hear some kind of noise that indicated he was still around. She refused to believe he'd just shag her and run off, but became doubtful until she saw the note next to her. It was folded in half with her name printed on it in decent cursive, and she opened it without a second thought.

_Dear Martha, _

_First off, good morning! Second, I know my leaving without saying a word seems rude, but there is a reason for it. I promise that I am not the type of guy that fucks and runs, besides you're worth __**far**__ more than a quick shag. Long story short, I got up at five and had to leave to avoid being late for school, as I still had to go home, get cleaned up and changed and finish the work I forgot about because of our date last night. I didn't tell you in person because I didn't want to disturb you while you were sleeping, though I doubt I could've woken you. Do you know you sleep like you're dead? You didn't stir once, despite all of the noise I made in my rushing around this morning! _

_Anyway, this is just to say sorry for taking off, but I had to get to class. It's nothing against you and I promise I'll call you later when I go to lunch at twelve-fifteen. _

_Love, _

_John _

'_Class…what is he…?' _She thought, then after thinking for a moment she mentally slapped herself. _'He's a teacher! Duh, Martha!' _She then smiled as she reread the note. Even though she would have preferred he had tried to wake her, she appreciated his courtesy and the effort he put into the note to make sure she knew he wasn't just going to leave her hanging. She read it once more and paused at the end. _'Love?! What does that mean? Is he…in love with me? Or is he just being polite? I…I have to get to work!' _At that, she quickly got up, threw a dressing gown on and headed for the shower. She spent as little time as possible getting dressed and then went to gather her brief that had been neglected last night. As she pulled it out of the car, she took notice of her handbag and grabbed that as well, remembering she had left her mobile in it. As she was searching for it, she came across something else, something she'd only recently started to carry around as her a John's relationship started to get serious.

'_Wait a minute…If this was is the car, then last night…Oh, shit. I don't have them anywhere else and I don't remember him pausing to use __**anything**__, which means he could've of…I could be…__**SHIT**__!' _She thought, her mind going into full panic mode as an array of memories came back to her in a blurred flood. The night with Clive…The pregnancy test…Gary Rush…_Everything_.

'_I __**have**__ to talk to John…Soon…Wait, he said he'd call me…So, lunch time then.' _

She spent much of her day worrying, but managed to put it aside when the trial started and her client was called at a witness.

"So, you caught the students smoking on break two months prior to this incident?" Caroline asked Celia as she stood in the witness box.

"Yes," Celia replied.

"And you agreed not to bust them because they asked for your help?"

"Yes and no. They…Threatened me and I know I should have said something, but I thought I could gain some credibility by _not_ turning them into the headmaster. It was after that that I got involved in their little ring. But, I never had any dealings with them, my job was simply to help hide the drugs and keep it a secret. They turned it on me and threatened that they'd turn _me _in, and then this happened."

"So, you agreed to help just to make yourself seem appealing to teenagers? But, you're the teacher. Shouldn't you have known better?"

"I should have, yes."

"Both at that time and the night in question?"

"No, because I was not there that night."

"Because you were with your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"How long were you with him?" Caroline asked.

"All night and into the morning," Celia replied.

"And what were you going?"

"He came to pick me up at six. We went out to dinner and then back to his flat to watch a film."

"What film?"

"A new film on BBC1, _Butlerette_. It was a murder story, that much I remember."

"And afterwards?"

"I simply stayed over."

"You never left?"

"No. We finished the film and went to bed at ten."

"But, you didn't sleep?" Caroline speculated.

After a moment of hesitation due to embarrassment, Celia responded, "No."

"He did, though."

"No, we both did…After…"

"After what, Miss Bellmonte? I'm confused, I'm sure the jury are."

"After…After we…Well…After we…Made…Love."

"No further questions you honour," Caroline said as she sat and Martha stood.

"As you can see, your honour, my client just cleared her alibi, saying where she was and what she was doing," Martha said, feeling unusually overconfident that day. "Never once has she or her boyfriend changed the story. However, one of the students has. I'd like to call Andrew Gray as a witness."

"Granted," The judge said.

Once Andrew stepped up, Caroline was the first one up to question him.

"You are in Miss Bellmonte's fourth period class, correct?"

"No. It's Mrs. Henderson's class, she simply _acts_ like it's hers," Andrew snapped.

"Regardless you are still in the same room being taught by her."

"Yes."

"Can you tell us about the incident that occurred two months prior to this one?"  
"Yes. It was break time at school, and a friend of mine invited me and a few others over to our secret corner to smoke."

"Secret corner?"

"It's a small area on the far side of the courtyard. It's covered by several trees, making it virtually unnoticeable. We've been using it for months now."

"For what?"

"Trading, selling and smoking marijuana. At first it was just my friends and I, but then Mr. Fitzpatrick found out and got involved. He kept it quiet for us and then Miss Bellmonte got involved. She found us smoking one day and threatened to turn us in, so we made a deal with her. She's a pathetic sucker really, believing she'd actually establish credit with us."

"Stick to the facts, Mr. Gray," Caroline instructed. "Now, tell us about the incident in question."

"A few days prior, my friends and I had made plans for a huge sale with some students from another school…"

As he spoke, Martha took notes, wondering what the story would be this time.

"They arrived late, so we stood, trading with each other."

"Was Miss Bellmonte there?"

"Yes. She showed up late, and was supposed to act as accountant. She handled the money for us, and occasionally supplied us with extra drugs when we ran low. She grows them in her house, she told us."

"What happened with her that night?"

"The students showed, and we started the trade with her handling the money and measuring, and just as we were finishing the headmaster came around. We forgot that he stays late. He immediately called the police and ordered us to stay. We did. Mr. Fitzpatrick offered to take the money and drugs and let them pin it on him while Miss Bellmonte said nothing. And, when the police arrived, she resisted arrest and ran down an alleyway."

"No further questions your honour," Caroline sat and Martha stood.

"Mr. Gray, explain to me how your story can possibly be true if we have already cleared Miss Bellmonte's alibi."

"She's lying. She has to be."

"Or, you are. Are you aware that this is the fourth time you have changed your story? The first time, you said she was lookout and ran away when the headmaster came, the second time, she simply bailed out, the third she ran off down an alleyway and now she's resisting arrest? Yet, how can this be possible when the police did not touch her until she arrived at school the next morning?"

"I…I don't know."

"How about we try the truth for once, Mr. Gray?"

"I'm telling the truth this time! She was there and ran."

"Oh, really? Do you remember the internet page you created for bashing her?"

"Yes, but that was just a venting tool."

"Oh, it was more than that. You used it to make plans in code."

"What?"

"On page two, your fellow schoolmates state that they want to 'get her good' and 'put her where she belongs.' 'Her,' being my client, Celia Bellmonte," Martha said, adding the last part for the sake of the jury. "Then, on page seven, the day _after_ all of this happened you said, 'we really tricked him' and 'now she'll be where she belongs.' Now, tell me Andrew, what trick do you speak of?"

After a long silence, Andrew spoke again, saying, "She wasn't there. One of the girls wore a suit to make it look like she was, but she wasn't."

"It was all a setup then?" Martha asked.

"Yes. To get rid of her. God, we _hate_ her and her class."

"So, let me get this right. You fitted my client up, because you don't like her. You made it _look_ like she committed this crime, when she was actually with her boyfriend all night, all because you don't like her. And, the police are inclined to believe you because you're a minor and she's an adult who should know better."

"Yes, _alright_?"

"No further questions, Your Honour," Martha said as she sat down.

"Miss Warwick?" The judge asked, looking at Caroline.

"The prosecution has no further evidence to offer, therefore, we rest on this case."

"In that case, we will proceed to sentencing on the defendant, Celia Bellmonte, after lunch."

"The trial is to run on another day, Your Honour," Mr. Fitzpatrick's barrister said.

"The prosecution rests, and as of this morning, your client put in a guilty plea. There is no need to waste any more time on this."

The man sat and soon the court was dismissed. Once outside, Caroline found Martha and said, "Not as impressive as usual, but a well-proved defense."

"I'm just doing my job. It's good to have an easy break sometimes," Martha said with a shrug as her mobile went off. "Excuse me." She quickly walked away. "John?" She asked, immediately remembering what she had to talk to him about.

"Martha," John said back.

"So, you do keep your promises."

"Always."

"Listen, John. I need to talk to you, what are you doing this evening?"

"Picking up the kids and then grading make up work."

"So, you're not free?"

"No. Can it wait?"

"_No. _This is really important. I need to see you as soon as possible. I know. What are you doing tomorrow morning?"

"Nothing I know of, but I have the kids every weekend Martha."

"I _know_. I just need an hour or two. Can you give me that?"

"I'll ask my mum if she would mind looking after them and come over for breakfast tomorrow. Is eight alright?"

"It's perfect. Thank you."

"It's fine. I know you wouldn't push unless it was important." There was a pause. "I have to go, there's a whole pile of papers here that needs grading."

"Alright, bye."

"Bye." At that, John hung up and Martha wandered off to find something to eat. Afterwards, she hung around outside the courthouse until the clerk from the court came to get her.

"Miss Costello?" She asked.

"Verdict?" Martha asked.

The woman nodded and Martha followed her back into the courtroom after putting her cigarette out.

"Has the jury reached a verdict upon which all of you are agreed?" The judge asked.

"Yes," The speaker nodded.

"On count one of the indictment, possession with intent to supply, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty."

"On count two of the indictment, selling a controlled substance to minors, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty."

"As the defendant has pleaded guilty to possession of a class B drug, we will proceed with sentencing on count three of the indictment on Monday. Case dismissed."

"Thank you," Celia whispered to Martha as she smiled at the result.

The case finished, Martha headed back to chambers to tell Billy so and was given another brief that she immediately started on, taking a pause in her work the following morning as she waited for John to arrive. He had called saying he'd be a few minutes late, which made her even more anxious than she was to see him, but she managed to keep it together when she answered the door.

"Good morning," She said, his reply being a light kiss.

"Morning. Now, did you make breakfast or are we going out?"

"I made it. This is something that can't be discussed in public," Martha said as she lead him into the kitchen, where she had set up a small, traditional breakfast.

"Looks good. I didn't know you could cook."

"I don't like to, that's why. But, when I do cook it's usually pretty good."

John smiled and sat while she set two cups of tea down. "Now, what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Eat something first, then we'll get into it."

He nodded and she sat to eat as well. Their conversation started as small talk, but halfway through the meal she finally got to the point.

"I'm not sure how to start, so I'm just going to say it. Of course you remember fucking me the other night."

"Martha, I didn't fuck you," John said. "I made love to you. However, I could fuck you if you really wanted it."

She kicked him under the table, something she had picked up from Niamh. "This _isn't_ funny John! Did you ever realize that we didn't use _any_ sort of protection? We did it twice and still didn't use anything! What if I'm pregnant? What am I supposed to do?!" She said, her voice gaining a bit of panic. "Oh, God…John."

"Martha, calm down. There's no way you can be pregnant."

"How do you know?! You have no idea how my body works and don't know how to use anything, so…"

John grabbed her hands. "Martha, listen to me. You are _not_ pregnant, you _can't_ be."

"Why?"

"I'm neutered," He said with a slight smile.

"What?"

"After Sophia was born, Emily and I decided that two kids were more than enough, and I got a vasectomy. Mind you, I was never pushed into it. I did it by _my_ choice."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?!"

"You didn't ask," John shrugged. "Besides, that's not something you readily tell people."

"John…" Martha sighed.

"Why are you so worried about it anyway? I know women are supposed to be shocked when they find out, but you went into a panic just thinking about it."

Martha sat back and sighed. "Do you really want to know?"

"We said we'd be honest with each other."

She sighed again, took in a breath and relayed her entire story about the one night stand with Clive, her getting pregnant, the deal with Gary Rush and finally, the miscarriage caused by him.

"I can't even imagine being put in that situation again. I may seem strong, but that broke down a lot of the walls I put up. I never think about it because I let it go. My mum and I figured that the reason behind it was that I was being challenged. It was the universe's way of telling me I wasn't ready to have children, so I don't dwell on it."

John nodded. "I know you don't like it when people pity you, so I'll just say that I guess you're glad that I can't get you pregnant now."

Martha gave a small, relieved laugh. "I was afraid to ever tell you because of what you might say."

"Martha, I've been through an equal amount of shit, remember? I'm not turned off by your past, there's a reason they call it the past, which I know is weird for a history teacher to say."

"No, some things are meant to be left. But others you study, because they can teach you a lot about the future. You told me that on our second date, remember?"

"Of course I do."

"How much time do you have left?"

"I told my mum I'd be back at ten, and it's already eight forty-five, so I've got time."

"Good."

"Good?" He asked in confusion as she got up and sauntered over to him.

"Now that I'm not worried anymore, why don't we make good use of our time?" She said, leaning down to kiss him.

John smiled. "But, what about the dishes?"

"They can wait," She said and the whispered in his ear, "I want you." She then got up, and pulled him with her, only to be pulled back for a hard, deep kiss.

"How do you want me? In your bed?"

"I can't wait that long," She said with a smile as she quickly pulled him toward the sofa…


End file.
